


Perchance to Dream

by ElvisVF101



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alternate Universe, Book 6: Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, Drama, Friendship, Hogwarts Era, Mystery, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: From Diagon Alley to Hogwarts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-12-30
Updated: 2007-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:59:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 30,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10809531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ElvisVF101/pseuds/ElvisVF101
Summary: Harry awakens from a nightmare to find the world has changed.





	1. Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Perfect was probably the best way to describe the day. Maybe there really was magic in the air. Midsummer's Eve was thought by many to be one of the most magical days of the year, so what better day to hold a wedding? The sky had been blue, the sun bright, and the breeze pleasant. Once the sun had set, it seemed every star in the sky had come out, and a few new ones too. Nature itself seemed to believe that the marriage of William Weasley and Fleur Delacour was something worthy of all its blessings. And why not? There had been far too many dark days. There was war brewing, and some days people didn't laugh, didn't smile, didn't make eye contact. But, for a few hours that day, people came together, looked into each other's eyes, smiled, laughed, and celebrated love on the most beautiful of days. 

Anyone walking into the Burrow this day would have simply thought that everyone was happy. Such people probably wouldn't have thought to look up in the branches of the old rowan tree that grew on the far side of the pond. If they had, they would have seen a lonely looking young man, hiding in it's branches, looking forlornly at the party across the way.

It wasn't that Harry Potter didn't enjoy the festivities. A Weasley wedding had a way of getting people going. The Weasleys were, after all, very lively people. The food had been excellent. Harry had no idea how Molly was able to cook for a hundred guests, but magic was very useful on occasion.

The ceremony was beautiful. Fleur and Bill didn't even seem to know anyone else was there. And the dancing at the reception...well, dancing still wasn't Harry's favourite past time. It seemed every one of the Weasley aunts simply thought Harry to be "such a handsome young fellow" and insisted on a turn or two. Harry gave them half a turn each and quickly sought the quickest escape possible.

But then...then she had come to him. Harry closed his eyes and still he saw Ginny walking toward him. Fleur had caved to Ginny's protests and changed the color of her bridesmaid gowns. They were now a lovely shade of gold. The material rustled softly around her ankles and clung to her body in ways that drove Harry mad. To top it all off, she wasn't wearing any perfume, just a matching rose in her hair, which only made Harry want to nuzzle into her neck and breathe deeply.

She had walked toward him, never breaking eye contact. Not a word was exchanged. She simply held out her hand; Harry took it and followed. When the song was over, she gave him a chaste kiss on the lips and turned and walked away. Harry could make out the faintest trace of tears in her eyes. 

She knew - or, rather, she suspected - Harry, Ron and Hermione were leaving again in the morning. Harry hadn't been able to bring himself to talk to Ginny for nearly a week, not since after the three of them had returned from Godric's Hollow. Harry had hoped that first trip, standing in the ruins of where it had all began; would give him the strength to go forward. Instead, it only brought back all the terrible things that had happened so far: his parents' murder; growing up with the Dursleys; losing Sirius (yes, he could finally say that one out loud); and the past year. Well, maybe Harry couldn't quite bring himself to say that one just yet. The weight of what had to be done, combined with all the losses he had suffered so far, made Harry not quite sure he could bring himself to go on.

So, here he was, hiding up a tree, on a day that was supposed to be a celebration of all the best things in life. All Harry Potter could think about was a madman who had committed murder, time and time again, for the sake of living forever. But even that wasn't enough. He wanted to make sure that anyone who stood in his way, who didn't agree with him, who didn't kiss the hem of his robes, couldn't publicly or privately defy him. This wasn't just war. This was more than war. This was an atrocity waiting to happen. 

The only thing it waited for was Harry. The Greatest Wizard in the World himself had believed that Harry was the only thing standing between Voldemort and that complete atrocity. Dumbledore himself was now a casu...no...no thinking about that. There were no more branches for Harry to climb up and hide in. Now it was time to forget.

In a few hours time, Harry would be leaving all this happiness behind and setting off on the most dangerous quest that had ever been undertaken in the Wizarding world. A mere boy was going to take down the most evil dark wizard in half a century because it was his destiny. Only destiny didn't ever stop to consider what it was doing by sending a mere boy to save the world, it just thought that it would be poignant. That was all well and good, but how did destiny know that Harry was the right "mere boy" to send? No one had ever bothered to ask him if he WANTED to do this. Especially now that he was alone. No one stood between him and destiny. Those who had stood in the way were now dea...gone. 

He had to do this. He had to or else today would be the exception to the darkness. With a heavy heart, Harry Potter climbed down from the tree, and headed for the Burrow. After all, it wouldn't do to face destiny without enough sleep.

***

_"Severus...please..."_

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

***

"NOO!"

It was the same dream; the same one, every night, for the past week. The more he tried to forget it during the day, the more Harry remembered the events on the Tower at night. They haunted his dreams and troubled his conscience. 

He could feel the tears coming again. Thank goodness Ron was asleep. He couldn't have stood to have his best mate see him like this, not when he and Hermione were putting their lives into his hands tomorrow. 

He was so tired of feeling this way. He couldn't do it. Morning would come and he would have to meet destiny face to face. He wasn't ready. He couldn't be ready. He could never BE ready. 

All hope was lost. 

Harry curled up and clutched the sheets tightly, crying himself to sleep. 

***

_"Severus...please..."_

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

***

"Harry! Harry! Wake up mate!"

"...hmmm...what?"

"Come on Harry! You can't sleep all day. We've got plans, remember?"

"WHAT? OH NO! RON! HURRY! WE HAVE TO LEAVE!"

"Whoa whoa whoa, mate. Easy there now. I don't think Diagon Alley is going anywhere."

"Diagon Alley? What are you talking about Ron? We have to leave today! We don't have time to pick up any more supplies. We need to go before the others find out we're gone!" Harry was definitely up now, scrambling to throw loose clothes into his rack sack. "I knew I shouldn't have saved this for today. I just hope we make it out before everyone else knows we're gone."

"Umm...Harry? Everyone knows we're going. This whole thing was Mum and Dad's idea, remember?"

"What?"

"Yeah, Harry. I hardly think that we'd be able to go without their permission. I don't fancy trying to sneak this one past Mum. She'd murder me!" 

"But...but how did they find out? I never told them about what I was doing with Profe..." Harry stopped abruptly as the room began to spin. His forehead felt as though it was being ripped in half with a saw. Instinctively, Harry reached for his scar...only to find it wasn't there. "What the..."

"Harry, take it easy, mate. Lie down. Let me get you a glass of water!"

"No! No...mirror...take me to the mirror..."

"What?"

"Don't argue, Ron, just do it!"

Ron didn't want to agitate his friend anymore, so he put an arm under Harry's and helped him walk to the mirror over the bureau. Harry felt around for his glasses and hurriedly put them on (missing his face once or twice). He quickly studied his reflection, looking for the thing that had defined his entire life since he was only a year old. 

It couldn't be, could it? There was no trace of his scar.

But the pain in his head continued. Harry once again found himself unsteady on his feet. Ron had to scramble to keep Harry up and lead him gently back to the bed.

"Take it easy, mate. I think we'd better stay in today. You just stay there and get some rest. I'll send Mum up to check on you. OK? Just have a bit of a kip. Things'll feel better when you wake up."

OK? OK! How could things be ok? Everything was all wrong. He had to leave. He had to leave today. He had to leave now, or else he wouldn't be able to...

The pain in his forehead only increased until Harry couldn't think any more. Instead, he decided to take Ron's advice. Maybe a bit of a kip would be just what he needed...

***

"Harry....Harry darling, are you all right?" 

The pain in his head was gone. He was still a bit groggy, but Harry at least felt up to opening his eyes. A very concerned looking redhead was hovering over him, slowly stroking his hair. It helped to calm him. He felt around for his glasses.

"Ginny?"

A few people standing around the room chuckled. Harry was dimly aware of someone who sounded like Arthur Weasley speaking.

"Well, how do you like that? Boy seems like he's dying and the first thing he looks for when he wakes up is his girlfriend. Guess you're not number one anymore eh, Lily? That's teenagers for you."

"What?"

Harry felt his glasses being put back on to his face, and the redhead above him quickly came into focus. He expected to be looking into Ginny's brown eyes, but instead found an older woman with the most extraordinary green eyes looking back at him.

"Don't you pay them any mind, dear. How are you feeling?"

"No...it can't be..."

"Harry, what's wrong, dear?"

Harry slowly sat up and started to take stock of his surroundings. He was in the Burrow, in the same bedroom that he and Ron had shared almost every summer since his second year. Molly, Arthur and Ron were all standing just at the foot of his bed. Sitting next to him was the woman who, up till now, Harry had only ever known from moving pictures, a look into the Mirror of Erised, and as a ghost from the horrible night he had duelled with Lord Voldemort.

"You...you're...how did you get here?"

"Well, Molly and Arthur Flooed when you weren't feeling well. We weren't going to come see you until you got back, but I don't think you're very well going to be going anywhere now in your condition."

"It...it can't be..."

"Now, honey, don't be so disappointed. They should have kept you in St. Mungo's a little longer, that's all. I think the stress of the wedding got to you. It was just too soon. If you rest up, I'm sure you lot can make a smaller trip. Just think, you can save the big trip for when you finish school. Doesn't that sound nice?"

Harry leapt from the bed, terrified at what was going on around him. "Who are you? You're not my mother! You can't be! She's dead! What's going on? Where am I? Someone tell me what is going on!" He turned to Ron and grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "What's happened? Why aren't we leaving on The Quest? And what is my mother doing here? She can't be here!"

"Uhh, whoa, mate, easy there. What are you talking about?"

Lily Potter was now very concerned for her son. "Harry, darling, what are you saying?"

"Stay away from me! Who are you?"

"I'm your mother, darling. How can you not know me?"

"You can't be my mother. My parents are dead!"

"Harry, you're scaring me, sweetheart. Come lie down, you don't know what you're saying."

"NO! STAY AWAY!" Harry turned to run for the door, only to run into someone who was trying to get into the room.

"Well, there's the old fighting Potter spirit," said the stranger, getting to his feet. "Way to go, son. I knew you'd be back on your feet in no time. But seriously, take it easy on your old man. You're getting a bit too big for the both of us to be playing full contact Quidditch inside the house."

"Dad?"

"James, something's wrong with Harry..."

"WHAT IS GOING ON?!? YOU CAN'T BE HERE! MY PARENTS ARE DEAD! YOU CAN'T BE HERE! WHAT'S HAPPENED?!" 

"Harry, easy there, lad," began James, resting his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Are you feeling well? We're not gone, we're right he-"

"Stay away! Ron, help me!"

"Arthur, help me, we have to get him to St. Mungo's! Now!"

"Ron! What's happened? Help me!"

"Harry, you're scaring me. Please, son, it's us..." 

"NO! STAY AWAY!"

"James, I think we might have to..." 

"I agree, Arthur, can you reach your wand?"

"Yes, Harry, please, stop struggling, you're only making this harder." 

"NO! LET ME GO!"

" _Somnius._ "


	2. Waking Up

When Harry awoke, he was in a bed surrounded by white curtains. He could make out three shadows of people standing on the other side. One figure seemed to be talking to two others, who had their arms around each other. Their voices were low, and Harry had to strain to hear them. He heard a woman speaking to a man and another woman. He could only assume it was one of the healers talking to his fath...it couldn't really be them, could it?  
  
"I'm sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Potter. We just don't know very much right now."  
  
"You said when he left last week that he was fine! What happened?" asked the man...his father?  
  
"Well, yes, he was fine. And, as far as we can tell, physically and magically, he still is fine. All our tests show that he has no obvious injuries. His heart and lungs are fine. Our tests show that he has no broken bones, no internal bleeding. Tests on his brain show everything normal. We've even tried some Muggle medical tests since he's a half-blood. There just isn't anything that we can find wrong with him."  
  
"But he's having headaches and dizzy spells! And he doesn't remember us! I'm his mother, but he was afraid of me and you're telling me that there's nothing wrong with him?"  
  
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Potter, but please, let me be clear. There is nothing wrong with him that we can find. I don't doubt that there is something potentially wrong with him, especially after what he's been through."  
  
"Yes, the attack," began James. "Is it possible that when they...is it possible that what they did to him...could be the cause of this?"  
  
"We have begun looking into that. We've been analysing the potion used in the flash bombs, and it is a bit more complicated then our initial tests indicated. We have our best apothecaries working on it, I assure you."  
  
"Yes, yes, that's all well and good, but..."  
  
"Yes, yes, Mr. Potter, I do understand your concerns. Believe me, I share them. I have to be honest with you. _Cruciatus_ is a very powerful bit of magic. Given its dark nature, there just aren't very many healers in Britain who are familiar with its effects. We are doing everything we can. We have contacted every major Wizarding Hospital in Europe, seeking anyone with any experience in treating victims. If that doesn't work, we will try America and Asia. But, I must be frank. There is a possibility that your son may suffer some permanent damage." Lily gave a small sob. "I can't say for sure. We simply don't have the knowledge to say. But be assured that neither myself, nor my staff will rest until we have exhausted every avenue to help Harry."  
  
The healer reached over and placed a hand on both parents' shoulders. "I can only imagine what you must be going through right now. If it was Brian or Alicia, I don't know what I would do. I promise you, as a healer and a mother, I will do everything I can."  
  
Lily sniffled as James hugged her close. "Thank you, Healer Spinnet. I know you'll do your best. May we see him?"  
  
"Under the circumstances, I'm not sure how wise that is. We need to try and keep him calm. For whatever reason, it seems your presence was an agitator." Mary suppressed a sigh, seeing the pained expression on the Potters' faces. It was hard to keep parents from a hospitalized child, but she had to think of Harry's best interests.   
  
"We need to do whatever we can to keep his emotions under control. I'm afraid of what added strain may do to him right now. Actually, I was hoping young Mr. Weasley might do the honours of coming to see him first. You said Harry was reaching out to him, even during the worst of it."  
  
Lily had seemed to be even more broken by this news and couldn't bear to speak. It was James who responded in a very small voice. "Yes, Ron and Harry have been friends since their first year. And Harry still seemed to recognize him."  
  
"Very well, I will speak to Mr. Weasley. In the meantime, why don't the two of you come with me? I think you both could do with some Calming Draught. This could be a very long night, and you both should get some rest."  
  
Harry watched the three shadows walk away. This had to be a dream. There was no other explanation. How could his parents be back? It made no sense. And why did everyone know that he, Ron and Hermione were leaving this morning? The three of them had told no one about the mission from Dumbledore to track down the remaining Horcruxes. But his mo...the woman, she was talking as if the three of them were going on vacation.  
  
Harry ran his hand through his hair. Suddenly, it hit him. His scar! It was gone. In all the excitement, he had forgotten. His scar was gone, and his parents were back, and no one cared about the Horcruxes. It couldn't be...it was all too good to be true. It couldn't be this simple. Wild hope began to rise in his heart.   
  
The curtain pulled back, and a woman in lime green Healer's robes walked in with a familiar face.  
  
"Hey there, Harry," said Ron. "How are you feeling?"  
  
"Ron, I've never been better!"  
  
***  
  
"I'm sorry, Healer. Could you please go over that again?"  
  
Patience was indeed a virtue. And for a healer, it was a necessary survival skill. As Healer Spinnet was aware, in the Muggle world, doctors went to school for many years beyond the average person, then had to apprentice for many more before they could become full-fledged doctors. And, while there was no Wizarding Education beyond the Great Schools like Hogwarts, to become a healer was still no small task. But, after 10 out of 10 Outstanding O.W.L.s, six out of six Outstanding N.E.W.T.s, and 12 years of grueling apprentice work, involving cleaning bed-pans without magic, cleaning various bodily fluids without magic, moving injured patients without magic (Senior Healers did love to haze the apprentices by forcing them to work without wands), Mary Spinnet had indeed become a healer. And her rise through the ranks had taught her that most patients and their families had little or no idea what had happened to them, or what was being done to them under her care. It was a struggle to help them understand what was at stake while they were at St. Mungo's. And that was when Mary herself fully understood what was going on.  
  
"Mr. and Mrs. Potter, your son's case is very unique. As I said before, we have very few healers who properly understand the effects of the _Cruciatus_. The Death Eaters who infiltrated the school that night subjected your son to the curse for several hours before help arrived."  
  
James bristled at the memory. "Those fanatics give Purebloods a bad name. This whole business, entering the school to attack non-purebloods... much bolder than anything they've done before."  
  
"You're right, Mr. Potter. And I understand your feelings, being Pureblood yourself, but you can't let some fringe terrorists distract you from your son's care."  
  
"Yes, yes, sorry. I'm just a bit on edge. Please, continue."  
  
"As I was saying, your son was subjected to the effects of _Cruciatus_ for several hours. We don't have much experience with long-term exposure to the curse. The few cases we have of survivors have all experienced some form of dementia, ranging from mild to severe. I believe we may be seeing the first signs in your son."  
  
"What sort of signs?" asked Lily in a small voice. She hadn't seen Harry since they brought him to the hospital almost an hour ago, and not being able to see him was beginning to take its toll.   
  
"I believe that a self-defence mechanism has triggered in Harry's brain. He doesn't remember anything about the attack. In fact, he remembers nothing before the attack. It's as if his mind has completely blocked it off. In place of those memories, it appears that his mind has created a sort of alternate reality."  
  
"And this alternate reality is helping him to cope? A reality in which he thinks that James and I are...are...are dead?"  
  
"As I said, most of this is conjecture. We simply can't be sure. But my hypothesis is that this alternate reality of Harry's is a way for his mind to cope with the sudden trauma of the torture. In place of that one horrific moment, Harry's mind has created a reality where he has suffered gradual trauma, in the form of several losses and unfortunate circumstances."  
  
Horrible ideas ran through Lily's mind. "What...what sort of place is this reality he's created?"  
  
"Well, as near as I could tell from Harry's conversations with myself and Ron Weasley, Harry's world is at war. And, in that reality, Harry is at the very centre of the war."  
  
Lily couldn't stop the gasp of shock that escaped from her mouth. James held her closer. "A war...and Harry at the centre...but why?"  
  
"Again, please understand, this is all still very much educated guesswork. But, I believe that the tragic nature of Harry's alternate reality, combined with central role in the conflict, helps to give him a sense of control and purpose. The reality of Harry's torture is that it was random, senseless, and it probably caught him unprepared. A world at war in which he is central to victory, while seemingly tragic, may help give Harry a sense of empowerment and purpose. In that world, even though he suffers, he is in control of his destiny. He has choices. Choice is a very powerful thing, and it has a profound effect on the psyche."  
  
Healer Spinnet regarded the scared parents in front of her for a moment. Her formal Healer's tone softened for a moment, and she reached out again to the frightened couple, hoping to bring them some comfort. "I've seen the kind of young man you both have raised. Harry is a fine lad. And he gets his independent, adventurous spirit from the both of you. This may all seem confusing at the moment, but this is Harry's way of fighting what's been done to him. You should be proud. He's not going down without a fight. And with a little love, I think he'll be just fine."  
  
The Potters held each other for a moment as they let Healer Spinnet's words sink in. They seemed to give Lily the resolve to speak again. "When can we see him?"  
  
"We've given him a Sleeping Draught. It should wear off in about half an hour. When he wakes up, I'll let you know. I'd like to give Harry some warning before we bring you in. He does appear to be a bit calmer, but he is still rather confused. We'll take things slowly. I'll let you in for a few minutes, and we'll see how he reacts."  
  
***  
  
Harry felt the fog of the Sleeping Draught begin to lift. He had been dreaming. As he awoke, the details began to fade, but his feelings and reactions remained. They were good dreams, dreams fuelled by all the happy things Ron had told him.   
  
There was no war. No Voldemort. The Death Eaters were just a group of fanatical purebloods who, for the most part, vandalised the homes of non purebloods. Harry was not an orphan. He had parents, grandparents, godparents, presents at Christmas, good grades, Captaincy of the Gryffindor House Quidditch team, and more than half of the summer before his seventh and final year at Hogwarts to enjoy this wonderful new reality.   
  
Everything was explained away by his being put under the _Cruciatus_ Curse during a bold Death Eater attack on Hogwarts near the end of his sixth year. Apparently, he and Ginny had been atop the Astronomy Tower after curfew. For some reason, Ron didn't really want to discuss why Harry might have been with his baby sister in a secluded spot after curfew, but he did know that a pair of Death Eaters trapped them and tortured Harry until help could arrive. He had apparently been unconscious in St. Mungo's for almost a week after the attack. The wedding had been his first real outing since the attack. The healers told him that the strain and excitement of the wedding had caused him to relapse. They were going to keep him under observation for a few days to determine if there was anything wrong with him.   
  
This caused some dismay for his best mate, since, evidently, they were due to go trekking across Magical Britain for a week. They had been planning their little adventure the whole year. Apparently, it was just going to be the two of them; a bit of male bonding. No grand hopeless quest to find bits of a psychotic Dark wizard's soul, while dodging Death Eaters and Dementors in hopes of saving the world.   
  
Harry had gone to bed feeling utterly hopeless. He was a seventeen year old, unqualified, orphaned wizard who was supposed to be "The Chosen One," saviour of the wizarding world. He had woken up as a normal seventeen year old without a care or need in the world, save for the fact that he was in hospital with a bit of a memory problem. But Harry decided that he was okay with that minor detail.   
  
His parents were alive.   
  
There was no war.  
  
Everything was ok.  
  
A small smile crossed his face as sleep overtook him again. Everything was better than ok.  
  
Everything was brilliant.  
  
***  
  
 _"Severus...please..."_

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_  
  
***  
  
The shock of the nightmare was what woke him up. But there was another shock waiting for Harry when he woke up. A pair of tennis-ball eyes was staring back at him, and there was an awful pressure on his chest.  
  
"Dobby!?!"  
  
"Dobby is sorry, sir, but Mr. Harry Potter must wake up."  
  
"I thought I told you not to do that."  
  
"Yes, sir; Mr. Harry Potter did tell Dobby not to...Bad Dobby! Bad! Bad! Bad!"  
  
Harry reached over to stop the unfortunate elf from bashing his head against the bedpost. "It's ok, Dobby, I'm sure you didn't mea..." An awful feeling came over Harry. "Dobby, when did I tell you not to do that?"  
  
"Mr. Harry Potter is telling Dobby not to frighten him while he is in the Hospital Wing at Hogwarts."  
  
"At Hogwarts...when?"  
  
"In Mr. Harry Potter's second year sir, after the Quidditch match, when Dobby's Bludger broke Mr. Harry Potter's arm. Dobby is very sorry for breaking Mr. Harry Potter's arm sir. Bad Dobby!"  
  
Harry automatically reached out again to stop Dobby from punishing himself. He was more concerned with what the elf was telling him. "Dobby, why did you send the Bludger after me?"  
  
"Dobby wanted Harry Potter to go home beca-"  
  
"Because terrible things were going to happen?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Harry felt like someone had dropped cold water over his head. "No, no, Dobby, that couldn't have happened. Voldemort isn't real..."  
  
"No sir, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is real, sir. Mr. Harry Potter must wake up. Mr. Harry Potter is dreaming, sir!"  
  
"What? No...no..."  
  
Dobby's tennis ball shaped eyes were brimming with tears now and his ears began to droop, as though he were delivering the most awful news in the world. "Dobby is sorry, sir, but Mr. Harry Potter is not seeing what is real, sir. Mr. Harry Potter must wake up."  
  
"Dobby, I want you to stop..."  
  
"Dobby wishes he could let Mr. Harry Potter sleep, sir, but Professor Dumbledore says Mr. Harry Potter must wake up, sir."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Mr. Harry Potter must wake up, sir."  
  
 _"Mr. Potter, it's time to get up."_  
  
"What?"  
  
 _"Mr. Potter? Are you awake?"_  
  
***  
  
"Mr. Potter?"  
  
Harry's eyes snapped open. "What?"  
  
Healer Spinnet stood at the foot of the bed. "That's better. How are you feeling?"  
  
"What...where am I?"  
  
Healer Spinnet stiffened for a moment. Only a careful eye could have seen her sudden tensing, but it was a sign that she was troubled. As a healer, she had learned that she frequently had to hide her own reactions from her patients to keep them calm. "Mr. Potter, you are in St. Mungo's. You had a dizzy spell and some memory problems. Do you remember?"  
  
Harry looked at her for a moment. "I was attacked...unconscious for a week..."  
  
Healer Spinnet subtly relaxed. "Yes, Mr. Potter, that's right."   
  
"My parents...they're here?"  
  
"Yes, that's right."  
  
"Can I...can I see them?"  
  
Healer Spinnet regarded her patient. There was a pleading look in his bright green eyes. He looked very lost and frightened, as though he were a great deal younger than seventeen and was afraid of monsters under his bed. "Is that what you would like?"  
  
Harry's eyes brightened, and he sat bolt upright. "Yes!"  
  
"All right, wait just a moment." She pulled the curtains and left.   
  
It was just a dream. It had to be a dream. The old things he knew. The war, it all had to be a bad dream. He had seen his parents. They were waiting just outside now. They wanted to see him. They would come through the curtains. All the bad dreams would go away...  
  
"Mr. Potter? I believe you have guests."  
  
Healer Spinnet did indeed pull back the curtains, and the two people Harry most wanted to see in the world walked toward his bed arm-in-arm. It was a vision he had only ever seen in his dreams, usually the night before his birthdays when he was locked in the cupboard under the stairs. But now, it was here, and it was real. He could see them with his eyes open.   
  
And all the bad dreams went away.  
  
Harry leapt out of his bed and ran towards them like a boy much younger than himself.  
  
"Mum! Dad!" He felt strong hands bring him close into the kind of hug that had only ever existed in the dreams, when he clutched his pillow and covers tightly in the dark of night. But this was warm and real.  
  
He felt a kiss on his cheek and heard the most heavenly voice speak in his ear. "Hello darling. How are you feeling?"  
  
"You...you're really here?"  
  
"Both of us, son."  
  
"And...you're not going anywhere."  
  
"We'd never leave you, sweetheart. We love you."  
  
Harry sobbed into the crook of his mother's neck like a normal boy for several minutes before he could bring himself to speak. "Can we go home now?"  
  
Lily and James looked to Healer Spinnet with identical hopeful looks in their eyes.  
  
"Perhaps that would be best."  
  
Harry clutched his parents even tighter.  
  
Home.


	3. Coming Home

A pair of cracks signalled the Apparition to their home of the Potter family. Harry took a moment to take in his surroundings. He stood before a splendid country estate, set against the backdrop of dense forest. Just off to the right was the bank of a small swimming hole. On the left was a clearing with a set of Quidditch rings.

"Do we live here?"

"Yes dear, this is your home."

Harry looked around at his wonderful surroundings. Gradually, he became aware of a far off sound, and a faint trace of something in the air.

"Are we near the sea?"

James and Lily looked at each other and smiled.

"Come take a walk with us, Harry."

Harry followed his parents on a short walk through the woods that ended up at a cliff, which overlooked the sea. Off in the distance, he could see land.

"What is this place?"

Lily put her arm around Harry's shoulders as she shared the view.

"This is Ynys Llew. If you look out, you can see across the Bristol Channel to Glamorgan. And the beautiful house you saw earlier sits outside the centre of the Wizarding village of Godric's Hollow."

Harry stopped and thought for a minute. "I thought Hogsmeade was the only Wizarding village in Britain."

This time James answered. "Well, officially, yes. This place is a bit of a secret. After all, you can't have just anyone come and harass a big Quidditch star like me."

Harry quickly rounded on James, his eyes wide. "You play Quidditch?"

"Chaser for the Caerphilly Catapults. Quite a good one too, if I may say so myself," quipped James with a cocky smirk.

"Oh, boys, enough with the Quidditch talk," interrupted Lily. "Harry, dear, what's say we go back and show you your room?"

This time, Harry rounded on his mother. "My room?"

"Well yes, dear. You have a room you know."

"I do?"

"Yes, dear," said Lily with a slightly puzzled look on her face. "Of course you do."

"I'd like to see it!"

***

It certainly wasn't a cupboard under the stairs.

For most of his life, Harry Potter had only known the cramped space beneath the stairs at Number Four, Privet Drive as his room. When the letters from Hogwarts began arriving, he had then been hidden in Dudley's old room, full of broken toys and other forgotten items. But no room, not even at Hogwarts or the Burrow, had Harry ever truly been able to call his own.

So, naturally, when he walked up to the door that was covered in Chocolate Frog Cards, Gryffindor House Scarves and a brightly painted sign that said "Harry's Room," Harry rather felt like Christmas had come again in the middle of the year. It was just the latest in a series of wonderful surprises in this splendid new reality.

No Voldemort, no war, no scar. He had parents... He still couldn't say that without feeling the need to do a little dance. And, he lived in a beautiful home.

But as wonderful as all these discoveries were, his _own_ room had a special place in Harry's heart. All his life, he had lived in borrowed spaces and cramped quarters. All his memories were of being an orphan with no place in the world, nowhere to ground him. As much as he loved staying with Ron at the Burrow, Harry always knew that it was Ron's room and that he was freely offering it to him. It was the closest thing Harry had ever known to home. But his own room, one he could offer to Ron, this was something new entirely. Visions of sleepovers and treks into the woods ended with dives into the swimming hole and games of Quidditch in his own backyard flashed through Harry's mind. It was all too good to be true. It had to be a dream.

_"Severus... please..."_

 

_"Avada Kedavra!"_

_"Dobby is sorry sir, but Mr. Harry Potter must wake up!"_  
  
"Harry?" His mother's hand on his shoulder shook Harry out of his reverie. "Darling, are you all right? You're sweating."  
  
Her touch calmed him. "No... no... I'm fine... I'm all right." Harry took a deep breath and brought himself back to the present. "I'm sorry, I was just trying... I don't remember anything."  
  
"That's all right, dear. The healers said it would take some time. You were showing some signs of progress, that's why they let us bring you home." She smiled before continuing. "You seemed to be showing some signs of remembrance. They hope that coming home would help. But you have to give it some time. No one expects you to remember everything at once. So, how about we just take everything one step at a time? What do you say? A quick walk through your room and a fresh treacle tart from the oven. Does that sound all right?"  
  
A huge grin broke out on Harry's face. He could very easily get used to having a mother. "That sounds brilliant... mum..." Even saying it felt nice. All the bad dreams seemed to go away with the words. Harry reached for the doorknob, much the way he might have reached for birthday presents and took another step into his new life.  
  
It was one he'd never forget. The room he stepped into was brilliant. The walls and high ceiling had some charm reminiscent of The Great Hall at Hogwarts, showing a bright blue sky with clouds floating by gently. His mother flipped something that looked like a Muggle light switch. Instantly, several miniature figures appeared from the ceiling and started an impromptu game of Quidditch. Harry could make out the bright red Quaffle, two small Bludgers and just the tiniest speck of gold zipping about which had to be the golden Snitch. A large picture window on the far wall revealed a sweeping view of the woods behind the house. The closet on the near wall opened to reveal some very smart looking clothes hanging neatly, sorted by colour, and the shelves on the opposite wall were stuffed with all the goodies a young man could want. There was a Wizarding Chess set, several decks of Exploding Snap cards, a bag of Gobstones, some very expensive looking Quidditch gear, a very complicated looking camera and a number of boxes marked "WWW" on the front in bright lettering. A simple bed was along the wall nearest to the door Harry came in. Above the bed was a shelf with, what appeared to be several medals, trophies and pictures. Harry walked over to the shelf to see what was there.  
  
A small lump formed in Harry's throat, as he looked at all the pictures. Lily followed her son and took his hand as he looked at the memories they had made the past seventeen years.  
  
"Do you remember any of this, dear?"  
  
Harry tried to speak, but his voice was suddenly very scratchy "No..."  
  
"Well, I do, so how about we share a few stories?"  
  
"I'd like that."  
  
***  
  
Over the next hour, Harry heard stories about this dream life. He saw pictures from birthdays, Christmases, summers spent on the beach, holidays in exotic places, and lazy weekends spent with friends. Now, sitting at the dining table of a very quaint country house, Harry Potter was enjoying a freshly baked treacle tart made by his mother. Every experience was special since he had woken up to find all the bad dreams were gone. This particular one, eating something his mum had made him, well, Harry wasn't quite sure he had enough words to describe what it made him feel. Not that he would have gotten any of them out. The tart was keeping his mouth rather well occupied. It seemed ages ago that he had eaten one of Mrs. Weasley's famed treacle tarts. She used to tell her children that the secret ingredient was mum's love. Maybe that was what was different here.  
  
At seventeen, most children would want to rebel and separate themselves from their parents. But for Harry, his whole life was a second chance now. He intended to make the most of it.  
  
"How's the tart, dear?"  
  
Harry looked up from his very excellent treacle tart. His mother was sitting in the chair across from him, her hands folded in front of her. Harry studied her for a moment. It really was true; they had the same eyes. Harry always wondered why people thought it was so remarkable that he had Lily's eyes. Especially considering that he wore glasses. But as he looked at his mother, seemingly for the first time, he understood.  
  
That shade of green just seemed to have some magic in it. They seemed to go between shining emerald brilliance, and other times, incredibly rich, earthy warmth. Her eyes were enchanting, and one look could make Harry feel loved, comforted, emboldened and vulnerable all at the same time. It seemed that at that one moment, nothing else in the world existed but his mother and him, and the very tasty treat in front of him.  
  
"It's brilliant, mum!"  
  
"When you were little, before you left for Hogwarts, you used to insist on a treacle tart every Sunday. You said that you would die if you didn't get one. So, every Sunday, for three years, you had a fresh tart as a treat. I reckon that's when you got hooked. Do you remember?"  
  
"No... sorry... but you know... I might remember more if you made me more tart..."  
  
Lily reached over and swatter her son on the shoulder. "Don't you get too clever with me, young man. You can only use this memory loss business to take advantage of your mum so often. Just for that, you're going to do the dishes. That should help remind you of some of this so called responsibility we've been trying to teach you for years now!"  
  
"Oh... umm... I have a headache, mum... I think I'd better go lie down..."  
  
"See? Treacle tart really does cure everything. You're acting much more like yourself. Now, grab a sponge and get to work."  
  
***  
  
The next few weeks proceeded at a slow, leisurely pace that was perfect for summer. Harry slept in until the sunlight coming through his window woke him up. He spent the days walking though the house, trying to remember anything of this life. Nothing was clicking, but Harry could see signs of a happy life. When he wasn't wandering the house, Harry explored the grounds around his house. It seemed to be a wonderful place to grow up. The spectacular landscape offered every opportunity for a young man with a restless spirit and a bit of a rebellious streak to have wonderful adventures. And an open Floo connection to make sure your best mate could tag along only made things better.  
  
Ron had stopped by a few times during the week to check up on Harry and help him to see if he could remember anything else. He hadn't had any luck, but being able to waste the days away with Ron was something Harry could remember and relate to, never mind that his memories were from another reality.  
  
Harry and Ron were coming back from an afternoon out when Harry received another pleasant surprise. As he walked up the stairs, he heard voices from the living room.  
  
"So how's he been holding up?" asked a new voice.  
  
"Well, he seems back together physically. No more fainting, no dizzy spells, no headaches. He still doesn't remember anything," said a voice, which Harry recognized as Lily's.  
  
"And how about you two?" There was something familiar about the voice.  
  
"Oh, we're fine."  
  
"Come on Lil, how long have we known you two? You can't fool us."  
  
"Oh, fine, fine, I'm a wreck. Happy?"  
  
"I'm very pleased. This is a chance for me to use my considerable charm to steal you away from my worthless git of a best mate." That voice, Harry knew that voice...  
  
"Remus, why don't you restrain your house mate here before I'm forced to do something rash," he heard his mother say with a note of humour in her voice.  
  
"Padfoot, you really must restrain yourself. Follow my lead and find a younger woman, rather than your best mate's girl."  
  
Padfoot? That meant...  
  
"Sirius?"  
  
Harry stood in the doorway. He could see his mother sitting in a chair opposite the couch, facing a pair of figures with their backs to him. At the sound of Harry's voice, Remus Lupin turned to face him, followed by Sirius.  
  
"There you are, Harry. Good to see you. How are you feeling?" asked Remus.  
  
"How are you here?"  
  
"Well, we thought about walking, but that would be such a bother, even if we are just down the road, so we Apparated. The Ministry was foolish enough to issue us licenses after all," said Sirius as he joined Remus.  
  
"You... you're really here?"  
  
Sirius promptly put Harry into a headlock and ruffled his hair. "That depends. Did your hair always look this bad?"  
  
"Ease up on my son, would you, or I'll have to reconsider your status as godfather," said Lily, although she couldn't quite hide the smile on her lips.  
  
"So you never answered my question, Harry, which I must tell you, would not go over well in my N.E.W.T. level Defence class," said Remus, sharing Lily's smile. "So no excuses about forgetting things over the summer. How are you feeling?"  
  
Harry grinned as he looked around. "I'm doing much better now."  
  
"Still can't quite remember everything though?"  
  
"No, not quite everything."  
  
This time, Sirius broke in. "Well then, it's your crazy uncles to the rescue! What say we enjoy your mother's cooking and share a few stories, eh?"  
  
Harry grinned. "You know, for an overgrown schoolboy, you've got a few good notions!"  
  
***  
  
The afternoon with the Marauders was the first of many afternoons spent sharing memories with Harry to reacquaint himself with his new life. It was good to see Sirius and Remus. They both looked healthy and happy. Remus was teaching Defence at Hogwarts, and Sirius had a rather high position on the Board of Directors with the Caerphilly Catapults, a job James had apparently obtained for him. The Potter Family held a stake in the Catapults, which was the source of much of the family's traditional fortune. Their current run of good luck was due in large part to the fact that, since leaving Hogwarts, James had helped take the Catapults from being a perennial bottom of the table straggler to a consistent top five finisher, their best run of fortune since the days of "Dangerous" Dai Llewellyn. There was still talk along the coast of Caerphilly challenging Tutshill for the title in the coming seasons.  
  
Aside from being a bit of a sports star, there was still plenty to love about having James Potter for a dad. He and Lily were patient teachers, helping Harry with his spell work. Ordinarily, getting Harry to do work over the summer would have been a Herculean task, however Harry didn't seem to mind the extra time with his parents. He was eager to do whatever they wanted, and enjoyed it when it was just the three of them. He had already discovered that his mother was an excellent listener, so it came as no surprise when he discovered his father was a bit of a story teller. Whether at dinner, or over a ride through the woods, James loved to tell stories. Stories about road trips with the Catapults; stories about his days as a Marauder at Hogwarts, and best of all, stories of raising Harry.  
  
Combined with the pictures his mother had told him about in his room, Harry learned a hundred and one new lovely memories that he had apparently forgotten. Learning how to ride a broom and play Quidditch in the yard with James, Weekends spent at Sirius and Remus' house, only a few kilometres down the road, summers at his grandparents, travelling Britain to see James play, and nicking sweets from the Magical Bakery his mum ran in the village.  
  
It certainly was a beautiful life. Harry was sorry he couldn't remember more of it. But it didn't bother him as much. His mum and dad, and his friends seemed to remember enough for him. And he could see in their eyes that they loved him. What more did he need? There was plenty of time to make new memories.  
  
***  
  
 _"Severus... please..._

_AVADA KEDAVRA!"_  
  
***  
  
Harry woke in a cold sweat. Odd considering how warm it still was outside. The sun had set nearly five hours ago, but the night had remained muggy. Yet Harry was shivering, and he had a queasy feeling in his stomach. Something told him that he was forgetting something, something important. Something felt...off. He couldn't quite shake the feeling that he had to do something important. The dream quickly slipped away. All that remained was the dread.  
  
In hopes of shaking off the chill, Harry quietly stole out of the house. Unsure of what to do, he let his feet find the way, and a short walk later, he found himself at the cliff overlooking the sea. The roar of the waves and the smell of the salt calmed him a little. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply. Once he did, the sound and smell only got stronger, and it seemed the waves swept his troubles away. He sat down and leaned back against a small rock and stared at the stars for a little while.  
  
A few minutes later, he heard footsteps shuffling his way. He quickly sat up to see who else couldn't sleep this late at night. The unmistakable glow of a Lumos spell coming from the tip of a wand illuminated the still slightly sleepy face of James Potter.  
  
"I thought my days of having to use the _Locus_ spell to find my wayward son would have ended long ago. Bit late for a game of hide and seek, don't you think? It helps to tell us that you're playing."  
  
"Sorry, Dad."  
  
"Just be glad you didn't wake your mum," said James, as he sat down next to his son. "She might have tried to _Accio_ you. She's right powerful too, she might have been able to do it."  
  
"Somehow, I'm not surprised."  
  
"What was it about?"  
  
"What?"  
  
James looked down at his son. "I may be old, but I'm not stupid. It's the middle of the night. My son's bed is empty, and somehow, he's found his way to his favourite thinking spot, in spite of the fact that he has supposedly lost his memory, which is still a bit of a big deal by the way, and said son should be more careful. All signs point to a bad dream. Did I get that about right?"  
  
"Uhh, yeah."  
  
"So, what was it about?"  
  
"I can't remember."  
  
"Can't, or won't?"  
  
Harry frowned. "Can't! Well... maybe I'm not trying hard enough...I don't know."  
  
"Easy son, I'm not trying to judge you. But, you know what the healers said. This is going to take time. And it won't necessarily get better every day. If it gets easy for a spell, if you let your guard down, or you just aren't paying attention to something, there could still be relapses."  
  
"I know, I know, it's just..."  
  
"Best way to deal with it is to just have it out. What's on your mind?"  
  
"What's real? How do I know? Everything I knew, or I thought I knew, it's all changed! Nothing is the way it's supposed to be!"  
  
"Mum and I are supposed to be dead? There's supposed to be a war?"  
  
"No, that's not what I meant. I just.... How do I know?"  
  
"Close your eyes, son."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Do you trust me, Harry?"  
  
"I...yeah, I reckon so."  
  
"Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence, son."  
  
"I trust you, Dad. You happy now?"  
  
"Gleeful beyond belief. Now close your eyes. Good. Tell me everything you hear."  
  
"I hear the waves, a slight breeze...there's an owl hooting in the background. I think it's Hedwig."  
  
"Good. Open your eyes. Now lie down and look at the stars. You remember your astronomy?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Tell me what you see."  
  
"I see Libra...the Wolf...the Little Bear...and the Hunter."  
  
"Did you make that up?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Then it must be real."  
  
"What, just like that?"  
  
"No, not just like that. It was either real to begin with, or it was never real. Do you understand, son?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"That's okay, plenty of people don't, and they don't have the benefit of Magical Amnesia."  
  
"Are you making all this up, Dad?"  
  
"How would you know? Even if I was, it's up to you to decide, Harry. You have to choose to believe. You know why most Muggles can't see our world?"  
  
"Unplottable and Disillusionment charms?"  
  
"You think any charm any of us can do is powerful enough to fool every Muggle in the world? Come on Harry, there are billions of them. No one is that powerful, not even McGonagall. Muggles don't see us because they don't want to. They don't believe so they don't see. People see what they want to. You have to choose to believe. If you do that, you'll see."  
  
"I still don't think I get it."  
  
"That's okay. I have a better idea anyway. Sleep on it, take a few days. Then let us know what you think. How about you do it inside, though, because I'd like my bed now, thank you very much, and your mum would have my head if she found out I left you out here all night. What do you say we both avoid a lecture and make it back?"  
  
"I dunno, dad, I think that we might have to... RACE!"  
  
James regarded the sprinting form of his son for a moment. It was nice to see some of his humour return, even in the face of difficult circumstances. He knew that tonight was not the first night Harry had been awoken with a disturbing dream. Usually, he went downstairs for a glass of water, and then went back to sleep. Tonight, however, things must have been much worse. He knew it was possible that Harry wasn't making enough progress and wasn't getting any better. It was time for some new strategies, lest Harry end up back in St. Mungo's. In the morning, James would make some arrangements to make sure that didn't happen. In the meantime, he calmly reached for his wand and Apparated to his front door, just in time to wipe the smug look off Harry's face.  
  
The boy had to learn to carry his wand at all times.


	4. Believing

"Ah, Mr. Potter. Nice to see you walking in here rather than being levitated in."

"Yeah, thanks," said Harry as he took the seat opposite Healer Mary Spinnet. "You don't mind my saying that I'd rather not be here at all, do you?"

"To be quite honest, Mr. Potter, I feel the same way. It would mean that you were feeling better, and I could pop off for a quick nap, but, alas, it seems neither of us are going to completely get our way this morning. So let us make the best of it, hmm?"

Harry couldn't help but smile. She might seem a little formal at times, but Healer Spinnet knew how to keep patients relaxed, while still conveying a sense of authority. "Deal. So, what do I get to be prodded with first? Will it hurt?"

"The first prods will only be a few simple questions. As long as you make no inquiries as to my age or remark rudely about my lovely figure, I'm quite certain you will escape unharmed. Understand?"

This time, the smile stayed. "Yes ma'am."

"Good. So, how is your memory coming along?"

"I still don't really remember anything...at least, not anything that's real."

"Your memories of your other life remain clear though?"

"No, there are gaps too."

Healer Spinnet sat up a little straighter, becoming slightly more tense. "What sort of gaps?"

"I...I'm not sure. I think about it sometimes, when I try to think about things that are different. I mean, everything from that life seems so sad. My parents were dead, my grandparents, my godfather, and the war...but there were other things too. I feel like I'm forgetting something. Something that was important."

Healer Spinnet leaned back in her chair and studied Harry for a moment. "Are you sure you aren't just projecting your feelings from this life onto your remembered life?"

Harry frowned. "See, I don't know. This is what I was feeling last night when I couldn't sleep. I think that's why dad brought me in today."

"Was he right to?"

Harry absently ran his hand through his hair. "I don't know anymore. To be honest, Healer, I still don't know what's real. I mean, I can sit here, feel the wood grain on this chair, smell the toast and mint tea sitting on your desk, hear the people walking outside that door, see the texturing on the walls...but I don't know if it's real." Harry rose out of his chair in frustration and began wandering around the small office. "After all, it's in a world that, until a few weeks ago, I didn't know existed. The world I knew is only in my head. But I can remember 16 years worth of memories from it."

"But you can't quite remember everything, can you?"

Harry stopped pacing and looked right at Healer Spinnet. "No, I suppose not."

Healer Spinnet leaned forward in her chair and folded her hands on her desk. "Harry, I know this might seem difficult, but I think that this is actually a good sign. You are beginning to let go. That's a very important step in your healing process."

Harry now turned to face her. "How can this be a good thing? I feel like I'm losing my mind!"

"Harry, I think you should sit down. We have quite a bit of ground to cover, and I don't fancy your chances of being able to absorb everything I have to tell you while you are wearing holes in my lovely carpeting. It's a bit of a bother to have it replaced, you know."

Harry gave a small chuckle as he made his way back to his chair. When he sat down, he gave Healer Spinnet his full attention.

"Thank you, Harry. Now, let's discuss what is happening to you. You are not making any progress in remembering you current life. That is obviously causing great distress to your parents. Despite your lack of recall, you do seem to have formed a very powerful bond with your parents. So, naturally, their distress has an effect on you. When combined with your own frustrations and desire for progress, I believe your mind is gradually letting go of the illusions. This will, in turn, help with your own recollections. It will take some time though. No need to give me that dirty look. We've been telling you from the start that this wouldn't be easy. Part of you seems to be holding on to your old life. Isn't that right?"

"Yeah, I guess so. I mean, it just seems so important, you know. I feel like there's something I have to do, and I just can't remember it."

"Harry, listen to me, and listen very carefully, because this is important. The mind is a funny thing. It is beyond the understanding of even the brightest witches and wizards. It can be surprisingly frail at one moment, and strong as steel the next. One can never truly know how the mind will cope with the demands we place on it. Right now, at this very moment, you are feeling helpless and powerless. And yet your mind is still fighting. Some of your most basic survival instincts are guiding it right now. Your mind is searching for any foothold it can find, something to ground it, something to tell it what's real. Your mind wants facts. Facts are indisputable, and can end all doubt in your mind. But, I fear you cannot accept any facts right now. You have too many. You have facts from this world and the other. So you need the next best thing. Do you know what that is, Harry?"

Harry had leaned towards her in spite of himself, and now hung on everything Healer Spinnet was saying. "What?"

"You must believe, Harry. You must choose to believe. Your mind will follow you whichever path you choose, but you must choose. Do you understand?"

"I...I think so..."

Healer Spinnet smiled. "No, you don't, Mr. Potter. Not just yet anyway." She brightened. "But no matter. As we said, it will take some time. The best thing to do for now is keep reacquainting yourself with your life. To that end, I have something that might help you. Two somethings, actually. And, if I'm not very much mistaken, they are both listening at the door." Mary reached for her wand and waved a simple unlocking spell at the door, which flew open, depositing a mass of lime green robes onto the floor. The mass of robes rose to reveal a red-faced young woman who had rather bushy brown hair.

"Hermione!"

"Oh Harry, it's so good to see you!" Hermione quickly rose from the floor and ran to give Harry a hug. "I've been hoping to see you for weeks now, but they were limiting visits since the wedding! I've been so worried! I knew that you were taking it too fast after the attack, but you boys can be so stubborn, and then you had the fainting spell after the wedding, and it just seemed-"

"Ahem."

Harry couldn't help but laugh as Hermione looked a bit sheepish. She had been building up a head of steam until Healer Spinnet stepped in. He was reminded of a little girl on a train many years ago who was looking for a lost toad.

"Well, we have one of our eavesdroppers. The other is trying unsuccessfully to make a getaway. Isn't that right?" called Healer Spinnet out her door.

Another girl in the same lime green robes walked into the room, also looking sheepish. The effect was somewhat more pronounced as the young girl had rather red ears, which were only emphasized by her lovely red hair.

Harry suddenly became aware of the fact that the amount of oxygen in the room seemed to have decreased drastically, and he had apparently compensated by holding his breath. However, since he felt like he was turning a rather remarkable shade of blue, he decided that he should do something slightly more charming. He decided he should start by letting out the breath he was holding.

Unfortunately, the effect of letting out his breath was his also letting go of Hermione, who promptly stumbled forward onto Harry, who in turn, lost his own footing and somehow ended up on his back staring up at the ceiling. There was one advantage to his current state: a moment to reflect on the past seconds. He concluded that he had perhaps not been entirely successful in being charming.

This rather complicated analysis suddenly escaped him as he found the red head hovering anxiously over him.

"Harry! Are you all right?"

A goofy grin spread across his face. "Brilliant..."

"Ahem."

All three teenagers quickly scrambled to their feet and faced Healer Spinnet. She tried to look stern, but the events of the past minute had made that rather difficult.

"Ordinarily, if I found my apprentices eavesdropping outside my office, it would mean an afternoon of cleaning bedpans without magic." Hermione and Ginny suddenly found their shoes to be quite interesting. "However, the first rule of working at St. Mungo's is that patients come first, even before nasty chores. Therefore, your punishment will be spending the rest of the day with Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley, who should stop hiding on the other side of the door. After all, I know he was eavesdropping, too."

A rather gob smacked looking Ron stumbled into the room. "How did you know we were all there?"

"Call it a maternal instinct, son. Now, I believe I prescribed some therapy for my patient. Off with the lot of you!

***

After taking the Portkey from the lobby of St. Mungo's, the reunited gang found themselves with the rest of the day to spend in Diagon Alley. The extra moneybags provided by the Potters ensured that it would be a day well spent. Healer Spinnet had been gracious enough to allow Hermione and Ginny to take a break from their summer apprenticeship to help Harry in his recovery. James and Lily were feeling a bit anxious for their son, and they hoped that a few more familiar faces would help things along.

Either way, it would be a wonderful day for Harry, even if they did have to drag Hermione into Quality Quidditch Supplies against her will. Some compromises had to be made when there were three Gryffindor house players in need of some new dragon hide pads for the upcoming season. Harry and Ron were particularly anxious since it was to be their seventh and final year. Gryffindor's incredible run of four straight Hogwarts house championships had raised several eyebrows in the British and Irish Quidditch League. The past few years had seen several scouts attend Hogwarts matches to recruit house players. Seekers and Keepers always seemed to be at a premium, and Harry and Ron stood a good chance of being recruited.

Hermione was later placated when the group went in to Flourish and Blotts. Hermione, of course, wanted to dig straight away into the fall reading list and find a few supplements for her summer internship. Ginny also opted to find a few medical texts. Harry had been pleasantly surprised to see this turn of events, yet it all fit. Hermione and Ginny would make wonderful healers, so long as they weren't forced to put their considerable skills to other uses.

Harry thought back to that other life. He remembered a bushy haired little girl who was so eager to succeed she had memorised all her books before school started. He remembered a brave girl who was willing to lie for him and Ron. He remembered someone telling him that books and cleverness weren't everything; that friendship and bravery counted for a lot more. There was the girl who stood by him when the rest of the school believed he was a monster, and the one who never stopped working to save Buckbeak, even when her two best friends turned their backs on her.

Harry was considering all this while watching Hermione eagerly devour the book in front of her. He was a little shocked to see Ron step behind her and put his arms around her, offering her a peck on the cheek. Was it so hard to believe things might turn out this way? He remembered the events of the past year in the other place. Hermione had gone out on a limb inviting Ron to the Slug Club party. He may have broken her heart, but it only stood to reason that he might be able to put it back together again. After all, at the end of the year they had...

Harry suddenly doubled over and clutched his forehead. It felt as though his skull might break in half. Suddenly, he felt a pair of soft hands on him and smelled a faint flowery scent.

"Harry, are you all right?"

Just as quickly, the pain went away. Harry opened his eyes and once again found himself staring into the face he had been thinking about for weeks now.

"Yeah, I just... got light-headed there for a second."

"Nice to know I still have an effect on you."

Harry grinned. "Was there ever any doubt?"

"You're sure you're all right? It's no trouble to go back to see Healer Spinnet."

"Nah, no need for that. I think I just need a bit of fresh air. Care to join me?" said Harry with a bit of a roguish grin.

Ginny adopted a very coy demeanour. "Mr. Potter, what sort of witch do you think I am?"

"One who wants to take a walk with me. Now, will you consent to beautifying my arm by being on it?"

"Only because I'm a sucker for hard luck cases. Oi! You lot! The Leaky's down the road, so why don't you get a room! I'm going to take a walk with this one. Meet us in two hours at the joke shop. Shall we?"

Harry laughed. He missed Ginny. A lot. She was so much like her brothers, and yet completely her own person. She had Bill's charisma, the twins' humour, Charlie's sense of adventure and Ron's passion. All those qualities, and yet she was undecidedly feminine. It was a very potent combination. No wonder he had fallen so hard. It would be a wonderful afternoon.

Harry and Ginny stepped out the door of Flourish and Blotts into the hustle and bustle of Diagon Alley. Everyone else seemed to be in such a rush to be somewhere, but Harry had no such concerns. He had everything and everyone he wanted right at hand. It felt rather nice strolling the streets with Ginny on his arm.

"So, Harry, tell me about her."

"What? Who?"

"The other me; from that other world. What's she like?"

"Oh, umm... is this a trick question?"

"You wound me!" exclaimed Ginny, once again feigning outrage. "Why would I ever take advantage of sweet, simple you?"

"Remind me again, those older brothers of yours, the ones that own the, you know, _joke shop_."

"Very well, point taken. No, this is not a trick question. It's just... Ron told me about that other life of yours. It sounded awful. But you still knew all of us there so I want to know what she's like. The other me."

Harry looked into Ginny's eyes. There was none of the familiar mischief in them. Rather, they were shining with honesty and vulnerability, as if this question was very important to her. Harry decided that it was best to be honest.

"She's brilliant. Feisty. Has a wicked sense of humour. Loves to make everyone laugh. And she's strong. Stronger than most people give her credit for."

Ginny looked down and shyly ran a hand through her hair over her ear. "Were you two ever... involved?"

"We were."

"What happened?"

"We broke up. I don't remember why. I didn't want to, but... we had to for some reason. It wasn't meant to be."

"Do you believe that?"

"I don't want to."

"Then don't."

Harry decided that he wouldn't believe it. Or, rather, he would make that decision much later, once Ginny's lips had left his and her scent and touch weren't hijacking his higher brain functions. For the moment, he was occupied with kissing Ginny Weasley, and that suited him just fine.


	5. Doubts

Several sunlit days later, Harry and Ginny did eventually manage to make their way to Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. They were only a few minutes late, having to scramble across the alley after hearing a bell in the distance chime the hour and realizing that they were supposed to have been at the shop already. However, Ron and Hermione would never have known, since they came scrambling behind them a minute later. Evidently they had somehow missed the passage of time as well.

"Aww, look at the ickle lovebirds, Fred, isn't it cute?"

"Dear twin, are you feeling all right? Did you just use the word ‘cute' in a sentence describing the old bean pole over there?"

"Stuff it, you two," said Ron with a scowl.

"Looks like your girlfriend's wit isn't contagious. Too bad she hasn't rubbed off on you."

This time, it was Hermione who had the retort. "Not for lack of rubbing, which I suppose is more than either of you two bachelors can say."

"Maybe we should stay on her good side, George, right scary that one is."

"Don't worry, she doesn't bite... hard anyway," said Ron with a grin. Almost automatically, he pulled Hermione a little closer for a quick peck on the cheek.

Harry rather enjoyed the back and forth. Usually, the twins had Ron at their mercy. They always meant well, even if they could go a little too far. Ron seemed to have a bit more of a strut to his walk and was better able to handle their ribbing. Harry had a suspicion that it was due in no small part to Hermione's influence.

Harry turned to George. "The shop's looking really great, guys."

George beamed with pride, thumbing out the brightly coloured shop robes. "Well, it doesn't hurt to have a pair of brilliant young businessmen running the place. That, and a brother who works for Gringotts. Makes getting start-up capital a little easier."

Fred joined his twin. "Yeah, reckon we should have an honorary shelf for old Pharaoh Whatsisnamin IV for getting the shop off the ground. But seriously, we've put a lot of work in. We're hoping some of the new goods will really kick things up a notch. How would you like a sampler pack to get the kids at Hogwarts hooked? We'll give you a double if you promise to use them on Filch."

"Deal."

***

The gang left the shop laden with several bags worth of headaches for the Hogwarts staff. Combined with their loads from Quality Quidditch Supplies and Flourish and Blotts, they reckoned it was time for a visit to Florean Fortescue's for some frozen energy to haul their load back home.

They were all exchanging stories and laughing so hard that Harry accidentally bumped someone walking the other way.

"Oh, excuse me. I'm so sorry."

"Yes, accidental rudeness occurs alarmingly often. Good day."

Harry had a fleeting glimpse of a tall, bearded figure wearing half moon spectacles. Suddenly, the feelings of dread from the night before came rushing back to him.

"Harry?"

"What?"

Ron put his hand on Harry's shoulder. "All right there, mate? You looked pretty far gone there for a minute. Even worse than in Binns' class."

"No, I'm fine... it's just... did you see that man?"

"Who?"

"That man, he's just right-" Harry turned to point him out, but found no sign of the strange man. "But he was just right here."

"Who did you see, Harry?"

"It was... I don't know..."

Ginny took Harry's hand. "Come on, Harry, why don't we keep going?"

Harry felt the soft hand in his own. His attention snapped back to Ginny's face. "Yeah, I reckon a sundae sounds pretty good."

"Hey guys!"

The gang turned around to see a familiar round face waving to them. "Hiya, Neville," said Ron reaching out a hand to the new arrival. "Looks like we aren't the only ones dropping galleons today on new supplies."

"Oh, yeah, check it out." Neville reached into his bag and pulled out a brand new Beater's bat. "The latest and greatest. Kilmarnock Hammer, solid mahogany. And new dragon hide gloves with a sticking charm for better grip. Only the best for the reigning champs, eh?"

Ginny took the bat and gave it a few practice swings. "Well, whatever it takes to keep our path clear this year. I do a much better job scoring WITHOUT Bludgers to the head. Think you can arrange that?"

Neville gave a grin. "You won't even know they're there." He turned to Harry and gave him a friendly punch on the shoulder. "Good to see you out and about, mate. You're feeling better then?"

"Oh, yeah, a little. You know, just taking it one day at a time."

Neville laughed. "Aren't we all? Well, I better get going, I think I have somewhere to be, never can remember though." This time, everyone laughed.

"Are you sure, Nev? We're just heading over to Florean's."

"Nah, can't. We're having dinner with Gran tonight. I promised to help shopping after I picked up this."

"Neville!"

"Oh, there's mum. I'd better go. Nice to see you, guys. Take care of yourself, Harry."

Harry watched as Neville jogged over to his mother and gave her a quick peck on the cheek before they headed off. It was a very nice sight, but the feeling of dread returned to his stomach for some reason.

"Earth to Harry."

"Huh, what?"

"Nev must be rubbing off on you, mate. You went all spacey again."

"Guys, I think we should head home, I'm not feeling well."

Hermione looked worried. "Do you need to get to St. Mungo's?"

Harry shook his head. "No, I just... I want to go home."

"All right, mate, we'll just have to go back to my place first. Remember? You have the limited access Floo connection. So we'll just pop over to the Leaky and get back to the Burrow. Okay?"

Harry was vaguely aware of nodding his assent and being led to the Leaky Cauldron. His eyes were out of focus the whole time, and he was thinking back to snatches of forgotten dreams, wondering what was real.

When he emerged in the Weasley living room, his eyelids were already getting heavy, and he opted not to even bothering trying to Floo home. Instead, he marched up the stairs and collapsed on the bed in Ron's room.

***

_"Harry - yer a wizard."_

 

_"Better be - GRYFFINDOR!"_

_"Wood - I've found you a seeker."_

_"We've won the cup! We've won the cup!"_

_"Once my name's cleared... if you wanted a... a different home..."_

_"The Tri-Wizard Tournament will be taking place this year at Hogwarts."_

_" - incredible though it may seem - the fourth champion!"_

_"Severus... please..."_

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_  
  
***  
  
"Mr. Harry Potter, sir!"  
  
Harry jerked awake to find that he had thrown Dobby to the floor. "Dobby, what are you doing here?"  
  
Dobby slowly got himself to his feet. "Dobby must wake Mr. Harry Potter, sir."  
  
"Well, congratulations, Dobby, I'm awake."  
  
"No," squeaked the elf. "Mr. Harry Potter is still asleep. Mr. Harry Potter has been asleep for too long. He must wake up or he will be in grave danger!"  
  
"What? What are you talking about, Dobby?"  
  
Dobby rubbed his hands together and bowed his head. "Mr. Harry Potter is falling into deeper and deeper sleep. He must wake now or he will not be able to wake any longer. Professor Dumbledore tells Dobby he must wake Harry Potter."  
  
"Who? Dobby, I don't understand."  
  
"Dobby does not rightly understand either, sir. ‘Tis all too much for a poor house elf. But Dobby knows Mr. Harry Potter is in grave danger, sir. He must wake!"  
  
"Dobby, I'm perfectly safe. I don't know what you're talking about."  
  
Dobby suddenly became very earnest. "Yes you does, sir! Mr. Harry Potter is trying to forget! But he must not forget! He must wake up!"  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Dobby!" shouted Harry angrily. "Everything is fine! I don't need to wake up!"  
  
***  
  
"Harry dear? Are you feeling all right?"  
  
Harry's eyes snapped open. "Mrs. Weasley?"  
  
"Yes, dear. Ginny said you weren't feeling quite yourself this afternoon. I was afraid you were going to be out for too long."  
  
Harry rubbed some of the sleep out of his eyes. "No, Mrs. Weasley. I just... I was thinking about my meeting with Healer Spinnet this morning, and it just felt like... a bit much, that's all. I needed some time alone to think."  
  
"Well, no good thinking on an empty stomach, love," said Mrs. Weasley. "Come on down. I've made some sandwiches, and there's a cold glass of pumpkin juice for you before you head home."  
  
Harry grinned. "Thanks, Mrs. Weasley, that sounds brilliant."


	6. History

The sandwiches and pumpkin juice did help. It was in considerably better spirits that Harry returned back to Godric's Hollow. Upon his return to the house, he found that no one was home. Unsure of what to do with himself and not wanting to spend time alone, Harry let his feet lead him on the path to the heart of the village. It was a pleasant stroll, a few minutes' walk, through the woods near the house before reaching the seaside cliffs and running along the coast before the road turned back inland and into the village.

Harry found that once he reached the main street, his nose and stomach led him to a quaint little building with two windows full of shelves displaying wonderfully golden bread and sweets with very gooey and delicious looking glazing on them. The woodcut sign above the door read "Lily's Kitchen."

A small bell chimed as Harry opened the door. Immediately, a wholesome sweet smell overcame his senses, and the bright sunlight coming through the front windows seemed to give the wooden floor and fresh-baked bread a golden glow. Lily stepped out from the kitchen in back wearing a crisp white apron. Her hands had a touch of flour on them.

"Well hello, darling. I didn't expect you back so soon. How'd it go?"

"Hi, Mum. I was feeling a bit knackered, so I came back early. But otherwise, everything was fine. I had a great time. Thanks."

Lily smiled. "Well, I'm glad you're here. I have a bit of a quandary. I've baked too many tarts. There are three here and only two can go into the counter. I'm not quite sure what to do. Think you can help your old mum out?"

It was Harry's turn to smile. "I think I can do something for you."

Lily untied her apron and brought a treacle tart over to one of the tables where Harry joined her. As Harry tucked in to his excellent dessert, his mother took his other hand. "So tell me, dear, how was your visit with the healer?"

Harry finished his first bite and faced his mother. His eyes locked with hers, and again he felt the enchantment of her gaze. Everything else seemed to fade away. "I talked to her about the dreams. She said I have to choose to believe."

Lily rubber the back of Harry's hand with her thumb, her gaze never leaving her son. "She's a very wise woman. You should take her advice. You should take anyone's advice really. Merlin knows it's near impossible to get a teenager to listen to his mum, eh, son?"

Harry grinned. "Yeah, reckon so. But what are you going to do? Mums are always yelling and they think they know everything!"

"Maybe you should finish that dessert before it vanishes."

"I think that sounds like a good idea." Harry took another bite of the tart and then looked around. "Mum? Will you tell me about the bakery? I still can't remember everything."

"Well, it's a funny story. I never thought I'd have it. All my professors at Hogwarts thought for sure I'd be a teacher, or a healer, or with the Ministry, something big. And I almost was. I was training to be an Unspeakable."

Harry looked at his mother in amazement. "You... you were going to work in the Department of Mysteries?"

Lily nodded. "I had passed all the tests. All that remained was an induction ceremony."

"What kind of ceremony?"

Lily folded her arms on the table and hunched over. "Well, I would have had to cut off all ties with everyone I knew and give up my identity and become totally anonymous."

"What?"

"It's very serious work. It requires total commitment. You have to give up everything to pursue it."

Harry stopped to consider all the details. "How long ago was this?"

"About 18 years ago. About 4 years after Hogwarts."

The information slowly sunk in. "But... you and dad were married by that time, weren't you?"

Lily took a deep breath. "Yes, for two years."

"And... you were going to..."

"Yes, I was, dear."

"What happened?"

Lily leaned back in her chair, arms still crossed in front of her. "Well, things weren't going so well. You see, your father and I, we wanted to start a family. We had been trying, and, there were complications. We thought we weren't going to be able to. And, about that time, your father's career really took off. He was spending more and more time in training and travelling. We were drifting apart. We thought we had to be important people, much more important than who we were. Your father was feeling pressure from the family to make the team better, and I felt that all my professors' expectations meant I had to do something important. We were worrying ourselves to death and losing ourselves in the process. I felt like running away and doing something important was the solution. It all seemed to make sense."

"What changed your mind?"

Lily looked at her son. She leaned back forward and took his hand. "I got pregnant." She looked into Harry's eyes. "You changed us, Harry. You were our miracle. You brought us back together. And then, it felt like everything fell into place. Your father decided he wouldn't put so much pressure on himself to perform. And almost immediately, his game got better, and Caerphilly started winning. And I... I decided I didn't want to run away. I decided I still wanted to have a family. So, your father and I built a house here, so he could be close to the team, but still have some privacy and be close to home. And I decided to open the bakery. It meant I could stay in the village and be close to home and always be there for you." Lily looked down for a moment, her eyes shining. "You see, dear, this whole life, the house, the bakery, the island, all of it, it's because of you. Your father and I, we were lost. And you saved us. So, we decided we would always be there for you. Because we love you. And we want to make you as happy as you made us. That's why there will always be treacle tart for you. Do you understand, Harry?"

Harry was unable to speak. He found the only thing he could do was to reach around and hug his mother. He felt the warmth of the sunshine coming through the windows, and inhaled the aroma of the bakery coming from all around him. And he felt the strong feeling of his mother's arms around him. On all sides, Harry felt surrounded by such love that he felt his heart might burst from the weight of it all.

It felt wonderful.

***

Harry left the bakery some time later with fresh rolls for dinner while Lily cleaned up and closed. He walked home along the seaside path, taking a moment to stop at his favourite spot. He closed his eyes and let the sound of the waves and taste of salt anchor him in the moment. From here, all the bad dreams seemed like they were miles away. His stomach was still warm with his mum's treacle tart and the taste was still on his tongue. No reason to be afraid of a few bad dreams.

Harry continued his walk home, arriving just in time to hear James Apparate back from practice. "Cheers, son. How was your day?"

"It was fun. Thanks for letting me see everyone today."

James clapped his son on the shoulder. "Anything to help you along. So, what've we got here?"

"Dinner."

James frowned at his son. "You call this dinner? There's not nearly enough butter and meat! Come on, help your old man out."

Harry helped his father rectify the lack of butter and meat by cutting up vegetables for the roast. Once everything was in the oven, James and Harry stepped out to the back porch with a bottle of Butterbeer each. James looked over at his son. "We weren't expecting you back until later tonight. We figured you lot would grab dinner at the Leaky. Everything all right?"

Harry took a swig of his Butterbeer. "Yeah, I just felt a bit overwhelmed, felt like I had to get back."

James nodded. "No need to overdo it. I'm glad you came back then."

Harry looked down at the bottle in his hand, as if the answers to questions could be found there. He realised there weren't any, so he decided to try a different approach. "Dad, I was talking to mum today... about the bakery."

James looked over at Harry. "She told you about the year before you were born then." It wasn't a question.

"She did. I wanted to hear your story."

"Where should I start, son?"

"From the beginning."

James chuckled and leaned back in his chair. "Good place to start from. Well, your mother and I were both sorted into Gryffindor, so we almost grew up together. Although, if you ask most people, she probably grew up a little faster than I did." Harry and James both shared a laugh at this.

"Well, I was always a bit of a troublemaker at school. I was even borderline mean sometimes. But Lily, she always called me on it. She saw right through me, knew that I was a show off, and she never let me get away with it. So, naturally, I hated her. But, things change as you grow up. And, so did our feelings. I was showing off because I wanted to impress her, and she was calling me on it because she wanted me to be a better man. Eventually, I wanted to be a better man for her too, and she had always seen what I could be. So, we fell in love."

"What happened?"

It was James' turn to take a swig of his Butterbeer. "Well, we both just always felt so pressured. I mean, your mum was a brilliant student. It wasn't for nothing that she was Head Girl. We all figured she'd be the one to take over the world or something. Everyone expected her to succeed. And me, well, the family expected me to do well too. We're pure-bloods, upstanding members of the community. And I hate to say it, but I'm not entirely convinced that everyone in the family thought too highly of my marrying a Muggle-born." James paused for a moment and ran a hand through his untidy hair, in a manner very familiar to Harry.

"It only made the pressure worse. We HAD to succeed no matter what. So, we threw ourselves into being The Perfect Family. Lily pushed hard with ministry research that eventually led to her Unspeakable training, and I decided to become the world's greatest Quidditch player. I didn't have an off-season. I started going on loan to other European teams. I was gone more than I was here. And, throughout it all, we had been trying to start a family. And things just weren't working. The stress was getting to us. We had forgotten why we fell in love and why we wanted to start a family in the first place. Lily was ready to go through with the induction, and I wasn't going to stop her. And then, almost out of the blue, we found out she was pregnant. And then... everything changed."

"Dad?"

"Yes, son?"

"How did you know? About mum I mean..."

James cocked his head as he looked over at his son. "Well, she's my colours, isn't she?" he quipped, indicating his red and green practice kit.

Harry chuckled, "I'll bet she loves hearing that."

"Well, she does prefer the other things I have to say about her. But, it's like I said. She saw through me. All the games I played, the facades I put on; she didn't buy any of it. It was like she knew who I was, who I wanted to be, and who I could be. Well before I knew any of that, mind you. And, she was willing to wait. And to give me a good kick in the pants when I got to far away from who I was supposed to be."

Harry sat quietly, taking in all the things his dad was telling him. James could sense that there were many other things on his son's mind, and took his silence as initiative to press on.

"So, we do know for sure that you're a chip off the old block. I mean, for sure you look like me and all AND you have my taste for redheads."

Harry blushed and shifted in his chair. "Yeah, I reckon so."

James scooted his chair closer to Harry's. "What's on your mind, son?"

Harry still sat with his head down, considering the contents of his bottle very intently. "I just... it's so hard to make sense of anything these days. The whole memory loss business isn't helping. But, when I'm with Ginny, it just feels right. But I can't remember anything about the time we've had together to get thus far. I mean, I... I think I'm pretty sure that I like her and all... but none of it makes sense. Do I like her? Do I like the memory that I can't even remember from that other life? And, what if I never remember? How do I move forward with her? How do we build a life if I can't remember half of it? I just-" Harry looked up with an almost pleading look in his eyes. "What if I don't get better? I don't know what to do, Dad!"

James placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "I can't pretend I understand everything that's happening to you, son. But, from what you're telling me, there's at least one thing you can count on. And that is the love everyone feels for you. Ginny's is special. In both this life, and all your other memories, you care for her very deeply. Even when your mind created this other reality to help you cope, you still cared for Ginny. So your feelings for her must run deep. That's a scary thought, isn't it?"

Harry looked down his bottle again and nodded in agreement.

"Son, you have to believe you are getting better and going to get better. But, even if you don't, if your memories never come back, you still have your feelings and the things your heart knows. You have to believe in something, son. Believe in what your heart tells you. It won't lead you wrong."

Harry and James sat in silence, until they heard Lily Apparate into the kitchen, just in time to take the roast out of the oven. James clapped Harry on the shoulder again and led the way into the kitchen. Lily greeted both of them with hugs and kisses. She finished preparing dinner while Harry and James set the table. At last, the three Potters sat down to a very excellent meal, sharing jokes and stories about their day. Harry was in the middle of telling his parents how they had to drag Hermione into Quality Quidditch Supplies when he suddenly stopped.

"Harry? What's the matter dear?"

Harry chuckled and faced his parents. "I dunno. For a moment there, I just felt really normal. Like I've always been here, like we've always done this."

Lily reached for Harry's hand. "We always have, dear. Do you remember?"

Harry looked down and shook his head. James reached over and put his hand over Harry's and Lily's. "That's ok, son. We have plenty of time to make new memories. Trust your heart, yeah?"

Harry looked up again, seeing the wonderful vision of his parents smiling at him across the dining table, with an excellent home cooked meal before him. "Yeah, definitely."


	7. Choices

"Hello? Is anyone home?"

Harry looked up from his book to find Ron's face in the fireplace.

"Cheers mate. You comin' over?"

"Yeah, you fancy a day out?"

"Brilliant, come on over."

Ron's face disappeared, only to be replaced by the rest of him tumbling through the fireplace. He brushed some of the soot off his clothes. "Everyone else should be right behind me."

And, sure enough, Hermione and Ginny came through the Floo next. All were dressed for a bit of a hike, and had supplies for what looked like a very grand picnic.

"Well, you lot are certainly prepared. Gimme a minute, all right? I'll get changed."

Harry raced up the stairs and pulled out a jumper and some shoes.

As he was getting changed, he heard another voice from the Floo. "Hello, is anyone home?"

"Oi, how you doin' mate?" called Ron.

"I'm fine, is anyone else home?"

Harry heard a new set of footsteps approach the fireplace. "Oh, hello everyone, I didn't hear you all come in." It was his mother. But he still couldn't place the new voice.

The voice from the Floo spoke again. "Hello, Mrs. Potter, would it be all right if I came over?"

"Well hello, Draco dear, of course, please do come over. Are Sirius and Remus coming with you?"

Harry was vaguely aware of a continued conversation. Hearing his mother talk to Draco brought back some of his confused memories of the other place. Harry felt an irrational anger build up inside him. He quickly stormed down the stairs. This just couldn't be true.

"So how've you been, you blonde git?"

"Oh, the usual, better than you, Weasel."

"You wish. Anyway, you're just in time, we're all headed out, as soon as Harry gets his lazy arse down here - oh, there he is."

Immediately, everyone in the room turned to look at him. The laughter on everyone's lips died as they saw the cold look in Harry's eyes.

Lily quickly stepped in. "Harry, you have guests."

Harry remained unmoved.

Draco shuffled his feet before working up the courage to speak. "Maybe you all should give us a minute."

Ron walked over and put a hand on his shoulder. "You sure about that, mate?"

"Yeah, it's the right thing to do."

Ron and the girls all headed for the kitchen, leaving Harry and Draco alone. Draco stuffed his hands in his pockets, a gesture that seemed very odd for Malfoy since Harry could never remember seeing him wearing Muggle clothing. "I came to apologise."

Harry was a bit taken aback. "What?"

"I'm sorry I hadn't been by to see you sooner. They were limiting how many people could see you after... well, after it all happened. And so, I never got a chance to tell you I'm sorry."

"You... you're sorry?"

_"Severus... please..."_

_"AVADA KEDAVRA!"_

Harry balled his fists. "How can you - you're just sorry?"

Draco seemed to shrink a bit under Harry's fury, but pressed on. "I know that sorry can never quite cover what happened to you. I mean, I owe you my life for what you've done for me, and I know that it's the reason Father and the others came after you."

"What? What are you talking about?"

Draco looked up. "You...you don't remember, do you?"

"Don't say that!"

"I'm sorry, Harry, I didn't realise that it was.... Look, maybe I should come back later."

"No!" Harry suddenly seemed desperate. "Tell me what happened!"

Draco bit his lip and considered Harry's request. "Maybe we should sit down."

Harry tried to calm himself as he found a seat opposite Draco. He gripped the arms of his chair tightly as he listened. "Do you remember the end of fifth year?"

_"He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"_

"No, no I don't."

"Father was really pressuring me to join the Death Eaters. He wanted me to help him plan an attack on the school. I started getting cold feet. You, the Weasleys and Granger all found out. And instead of turning me in, you all convinced me to get away. You had Snape arrange to get me away from my father and in with Black and Lupin. They've been hiding me since the end of fifth year." Draco paused to take a breath. He seemed to be steeling himself to continue. "I don't know how, but Father found out that it was you lot who helped me escape. So, he planned the attack at the end of last year. Everyone thought the attack was random, but it was my fault."

Harry shook his head, trying to take in this new information. Draco seemed a bit lighter, having made his confession.

"Look, I owe you my life. If I had joined, I don't know what would have happened to me. And you lot saved me. You _saved_ me, Harry. You most of all. I think everyone else was ready to write me off, but you believed in me, and I don't know how I can ever thank you for that. And I know it's my fault this happened to you. I'm sorry I caused you more hurt. I didn't want that." Draco rose to his feet. "Well... I just... wanted to come by and... well, I hope you feel better. Take care, Potter."

As Draco turned to leave, Harry finally found his voice. "Hey, Malfoy." Draco stopped and turned. "The gang's all headed out for a picnic on the cliffs. You fancy taggin' along?"

Draco grinned. "I suppose I could stoop to that."

***

Harry crossed his hands behind his head and stared at the ceiling from the comfort of his bed. It had been an interesting day. It had been an interesting week for that matter. Well, a few weeks really. Well, rather the whole summer. It seemed the surprises would never cease.

Never mind the fact that he wasn't an orphan and there wasn't a war, who would have ever thought that Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy could ever be friends? Or Ron Weasley and Draco Malfoy, if it came down to it. But, the three lads got on quite well. Draco was fun, in a hedonistic, superior kind of way. He really had changed. And, somehow, Harry was the cause of it. Underneath the recycled prejudices and the arrogance of his station, he was a rather likable guy. And, over the past year, the gang had been getting to know that likable guy. Harry had many happy memories of days spent with Ron, Hermione and Ginny, both in this world and the other. But today was different with Draco in the mix. Harry could get used to it.

Draco Malfoy was a nice guy. Harry chuckled to himself. If that was true, why, anything was possible in this place. And that was a wonderful feeling.

***

"Mr. Harry Potter? You must be waking!"

Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright, once again knocking Dobby to the foot of his bed.

"No... Dobby, what are you doing here?"

"Dobby is coming to wake Mr. Harry Potter, he is in grave danger!" Dobby was quite animated, jumping up and down at the foot of the bed.

"Dobby, I don't understand. How can I be in grave danger? You keep saying that. But there's no war here. Everyone's all right."

Dobby scampered up the bed and grasped the collar of Harry's shirt. "Mr. Harry Potter is forgetting about He Who Must Not Be Named! He has Mr. Harry Potter under a spell! And the spell is working, sir. Mr. Harry Potter is so asleep he may not wake up again!"

Suddenly, Harry felt a familiar pain behind his forehead, and cried out in pain.

"You see, sir, you see! He Who Must Not Be Named wants Harry Potter to stay asleep! His spell is growing more powerful, sir! You must wake!"

***

Harry's eyes snapped open and he sat bolt upright. He could still feel a dull pain in his forehead and he reached up to rub it. His hand froze as he felt his forehead. He could feel a small mark, almost like a...

Harry quickly scrambled across the hallway and into the loo. He looked straight into the mirror, hoping against hope that it wouldn't be there...

But it was. Clear to see to anyone, as dark as it had ever been, the lightning bolt shaped scar that had marked Harry Potter all his life was back.

"No... no... it can't be... I don't want it to be... NOO!!!" Harry turned and banged his fists on the wall. He turned again and shoved all the toiletries off the counter. It seemed as though everything were slipping away. He thought he had finally found happiness, a world without pain, without tragedy, without fear. And it was all a dream.

_"Wake up, Harry."_

Harry suddenly became still.

_"Wake up, Harry."_

The voice spoke again, seemingly coming from all around him.

_"Harry, wake up."_

Harry's eyes darted all around, finally landing on the mirror. He nearly screamed. The reflection showed he was not alone. A tall bearded figure was standing behind him. Harry quickly turned to see who it was. But there was no one there.

_"Harry, you must wake up."_

Suddenly, the door creaked open, and Harry could hear footsteps leading away, but he could still see no one.

"Who are you? Where are you!"

_"Harry..."_

It sounded as if the voice was travelling away. Harry quickly raced down the hallway, just in time to look down the staircase and see the front door open.

_"Harry..."_

Harry wasted no time sprinting out the door. Just as he ran outside, he could vaguely make out a tall figure standing at the edge of the woods. And just as quickly, the figure turned and disappeared into the woods.

_"Harry, wake up."_

He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he raced through the woods, chasing the phantom, who sometimes seemed so close and then would disappear behind a tree, only to reappear deep in into the heart of the woods. And all the time, the voice echoed all around him.

_"Harry, wake up."_

"Who are you?! What do you want?!" Harry shouted to the heavens, to anyone who was listening. "I am awake! Why are you doing this to me!? I'm happy!" Harry balled his fists. "WHY CAN'T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE!"

_"Harry..."_

The voice sounded like it was right next to him. Harry quickly turned to look over his shoulder. And the figure stood stock still just at the edge of the tree line. Harry sprinted over, trying to catch this elusive shadow. He raced after it, just as it passed beyond the woods.

And suddenly, Harry found himself looking out over the cliffs at the roaring sea.

_"Harry, wake up. Wake up, Harry. You must wake up. Harry. You must choose to wake up. Wake up, Harry!"_

The voice was now all around him. It was persistent, almost desperate. And, once again, the pain in his forehead overcame him. Harry fell to his knees.

"I want this all to stop! How do I make it stop?!" Harry cried out. And almost as quickly as the question had left his lips, the answer seemed to come to him. The pain in his forehead left as quickly as it came. Harry rose to his feet and stepped towards the edge of the cliff.

"I have to wake up. I don't want to dream anymore. I want to wake up." Harry stepped up onto the last rock that stood between him and the drop. "I want to wake up."

"HARRY!!!"

He looked over his shoulder to see Ginny running toward him. She stopped just short, panting from the exertion.

"Harry, stop, what are you doing!?!"

Harry turned to face her. "Don't you see, Ginny? I'm still dreaming. All of this, none of it is real. I made it up! I didn't want to go on. I couldn't go on. So I made all this up. But I can't. I can't stay. I have to go back. I have to finish it. I'm the only one who can. I have to go back."

Ginny took a very hesitant step towards him. "Harry, please, you're scaring me."

"I'm scared too. But, I can't keep doing this, Ginny. I've been running, but I can't run away. I have to go back."

"Please, Harry, what are you going back to?"

Harry suddenly seemed very taken aback by the question. "What? What do you mean."

Ginny took another step forward. "What are you going back to, Harry? What are you going back for?"

"I... I have to go back. Don't you see... it's not like this..."

"Like what, Harry?"

"Like... like this. Like everything's perfect. Like I have everything I've ever wanted. It's not like this. I... I have to go back. I have to go back to what's real."

Ginny looked down, but took another step forward. "So, this isn't real because..." she looked up, into his eyes, "because you have everything you want. Because you're happy?"

Harry could see her eyes shining. He suddenly didn't have anything he could say. Ginny took the initiative to close the distance between them. She joined Harry up on the rock. Placing both hands on either side of his face, she rose on her toes for a kiss. Harry could feel her hair being blown around his face by the sea breeze. And even with the strong salty smell of the ocean, he could still smell the flowery scent that always came from Ginny. He allowed his senses to overcome him as he brought his own hand up to her face to feel the warmth of her cheek.

"Did you make that up too, Harry?" asked Ginny as she broke the kiss. Her voice was low, and her breath was short.

Harry kept his eyes closed. He was feeling so many different things; he felt he couldn't even begin to understand all of them.

Ginny ran a hand through his hair before lifting his chin up. "Harry, look at me."

Harry opened his eyes. Having Ginny so close made it difficult for him to think sometimes, but right now, it felt like all of his senses were hyper acute. He was feeling everything. It was overwhelming.

"Harry, you don't have to go anywhere. You belong here. You have to believe that. You do believe that, don't you, Harry?"

Tears were flowing freely down his cheeks now. He knew he couldn't. He couldn't stay. He had to do it. No one else could.

"Harry? Come down."

"Where will I go?"

Ginny looked shocked by Harry's question. "We go home, Harry. We go back to your family. We go live life."

Home. Home... where was that. Home was where family was. Home was safe. Home was love...

Harry took Ginny's hand and stepped down. He let her lead him back to his house and up to his bed. Harry could already feel sleep overtake him as Ginny brought the covers up over him.

***

"Mr. Harry Potter, you is not waking!"

"Dobby, stop!"

"No, Mr. Harry Potter must wake! Professor Dumbledore says Mr. Harry Potter must wake!"

"No."

"Mr. Harry Potter must wake, sir!"

"No. Dobby. I DON'T WANT TO WAKE UP!"

***

Harry felt his eyes flutter open. The first thing he saw was his mother standing over him.

"Mum?"

Lily knelt down by Harry's bedside and ran a hand through Harry's hair. "Are you all right, darling?"

"Where am I?"

Harry saw his father step behind Lily, placing one hand on her shoulder, and one on Harry's head. "You're home, son."

Home. What a wonderful word. "Brilliant," said Harry with a grin as sleep overtook him again.


	8. Snapshots

The next morning, Harry kept mostly to himself. He took a walk along the path to the village and strolled along the main street for a while. Harry found himself amused with how friendly everyone seemed to be. People were ambling around the shops, catching up with old friends, making small talk with the shopkeepers and generally enjoying the wonderful weather. Strangers opened doors for one another and tipped their hats to each other, exchanging warm greetings. Harry thought for some reason that this was rather unusual, but he couldn't exactly explain why he thought that. So, instead, he enjoyed it. After all, it seemed rather nice. It would be a shame to go and ruin that.

After an hour or so, Harry turned back for home, stopping along the way at the rock near the cliff. This time, he sat down, staring out at the waves, feeling the sea breeze and smelling the salt spray. Off in the distance, he could hear the cry of sea gulls. As usual, the sensations overcame him, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the feel of the sun on the back of his neck, and the breeze on his face, and the roar of the waves in his ears. A peaceful feeling came over him. He rarely ever felt like this. There was always a nagging voice in the back of his mind that told him he should be doing something more. But at these times, all the voices were silent, and only the waves and the gulls spoke to him.

Harry's moment of tranquillity was finally broken by the growling of his stomach. He decided that it was a very convenient time to go home, as mum would likely have something tasty waiting for him. As he reached home, he tried to remember what had prompted him the day before to nearly do the unthinkable. It all seemed like a bad dream, and the more he tried to remember, the more the details seemed to escape him. He decided it was best not to dwell on it. His dad had told him he should trust his heart. For the moment, his stomach was telling him he was hungry and his heart told him he loved his parents and wanted to see them, so he did the only sensible thing he could do. He opened the door.

"SURPRISE!!!"

Boy, was it ever. It seemed that the living room had been magically expanded to accommodate everyone. It seemed as though everyone Harry knew and loved was waiting for him, wearing party hats under a huge banner charmed to change colours that read "Happy Birthday Harry."

Amid the hugs from Hermione, Ginny and Mrs. Weasley, and handshakes and claps on the shoulder from Remus, Sirius, and Mr. Weasley, friendly punches on the shoulder from Neville, Ron and Draco, and some rather rough heaves from the twins, Harry could see his parents waiting at the dining table with a splendid looking cake that had 17 candles.

Harry went first to his mum, who had a big hug and kiss as only mum could deliver. "Happy Birthday, dear."

His father embraced him next. "So, my little shadow comes of age today. We're going to have to do this in style, don't you say?"

Harry looked around at all the happy faces who had come to wish him well. "Yeah, you guys did brilliant."

Lily put her arm around Harry's shoulder. "Well, go on then. I didn't bake this cake just so everyone could look at it. Make a wish, dear."

Harry smiled, feeling the arms of both his parents around him as friends looked on. He was about to blow out the candles on a birthday cake. It was a very ordinary scene that had probably been played out billions of times in billions of homes all across the Muggle and Wizarding world. But it was a first for Harry Potter. He was a rather extraordinary boy who had some rather extraordinary memories, none of which included a happy birthday.

With that in mind, Harry closed his eyes and made the same wish he had made for so many years when no one had remembered his birthday. He wished for tomorrow, and the next day, and the day after that, and all the coming days, to be ordinary, and happy. And with a deep breath. Harry made his wish and blew out the candles...

***

"Well, mate, it's really over, isn't it?"

"Yeah Ron, we finally made it." Harry, Ron and Hermione leaned back against the tree near the lake, watching all the seventh years milling about with their families after the Leaving Feast, each nursing a Butterbeer. For the moment, they had managed to give their respective families the slip and enjoy a quiet moment together and savour the fruits of their labours, and reminisce on seven years well spent.

"Yes, we're finally done, and we all made it. It only took me planning out your whole N.E.W.T. revision schedule and yelling at you two to stick to it," said Hermione with a cheeky grin. Ron and Harry both rolled their eyes in amusement. "Well, you louts could at least be grateful you know."

"Thank you, Hermione," said Harry and Ron in a very dull unison.

"You two... gosh, I really will miss it."

"What, yelling at the both of us? Something tells me that's not going to stop just because school's over."

Hermione gave Ron a quick swat on the arm before he deftly stole a kiss. "No, I know what you mean. I'll miss it too. What about you, mate?"

Harry looked up at the castle for a moment, a place that once had been the only home he had ever known. So much had changed over the past year, and here he was, at new crossroads.

"Yeah, I reckon I'll miss it too. But that's ok, I'm ready for what's next."

At that moment, the Weasleys spotted the trio. "James, Lily, they're over here!" They all shared a look and smiled. The quick reprieve was over. It was back to smiles and hugs and too many pictures.

"Come on now, let's get all three of you in this one." They shared another look. Actually, this picture might be nice. With big smiles and warm hugs, the three friends embraced for the camera...

_snap_

***

"You nervous, son?" whispered James.

Harry looked up at his dad and whispered back. "Maybe a little bit."

James smiled. "Don't worry, just answer the questions honestly, and you'll be fine."

"...and so, it is with great pleasure that the Caerphilly Catapults can announce the signing of our new Seeker, Harry Potter!"

Harry stepped forward, dressed in his red and green Caerphilly robes and waved to the crowd. There was a raucous cheer from the Welsh faithful who had turned out for the team's preseason roster unveiling. The chairman returned his wand to his throat to continue with his speech.

"The signing of young Mr. Potter makes Caerphilly the first team in the league in nearly two decades to have a father and son play together. I'm sure everyone here is thrilled to know that James has agreed to play one final season for the team." At this, James stepped forward, and the cheers renewed.

Once the crowd quieted again, the chairman continued. "We were very lucky to land both the Potters. I dare say signing Harry is what convinced James to give us one more year of his usual dazzling goal scoring. And the addition of a bright young seeker only makes me believe even more fervently, that Caerphilly's title drought will finally end this season!"

The largest roar yet went up from the green and red clad supporters. The chairman turned to James and Harry. "Why don't you both come up for some pictures?"

James led Harry up to the front of the stage where the photographer directed them.

"You ready, son?"

"Definitely."

"All right gents, how about we have both of you with your brooms. Yeah, just like that. Brilliant."

_snap_

***

Harry had literally never flown so fast in his whole life. He had never been on a broomstick flying for his life, but he reckoned even if that happened, he wouldn't be able to go as fast as he was going now.

It was somewhat remarkable, considering that the match was entering its eleventh hour, that Harry was still able to go this fast. Literally no one on the pitch had been spared from Bludgers, elbows, midair collisions, and perhaps even a discrete hex or two. Many people might frown at such violence in a simple Quidditch game, but this was no ordinary game. This was the final game of the season, Tutshill at Caerphilly, with both teams tied at the top of the table. The winner would win the league. Tutshill were out to defend their title at all costs, and Caerphilly had every intention of knocking them off the podium.

In addition, no matter how the result came out, this was to be James Potter's last game, since he intended to retire and take up his duties on the team's Board of Directors full time. And since this was to be his last game, he intended to go out fighting. The Tutshill Beaters seemed to take savage pleasure in isolating James, but he had ploughed on through the game, racking up 27 goals and assisting on 34 others. But even he was feeling the strain of the seemingly endless game. Everyone was.

As Harry leaned lower and lower on his broom, he could feel the pain in his hips from all the sharp manoeuvring, and the dull ache in his shoulder from one too many Bludgers. But he blocked it all out. The only thing that mattered was inching his broom ahead of the Tutshill seeker on his right and reaching the Golden Snitch, which was zipping ahead in a near straight line for the first time in hours. It seemed that the Snitch too was tiring.

Harry leaned in and urged his broom on, trying to overtake the man on his right. It seemed the Snitch was just in his grasp. There was no way Harry Potter was going to be beaten today. He dipped his shoulder and ploughed into the Tutshill Seeker and stretched out with his right arm.

_"Harry Potter has caught the Snitch! Caerphilly wins!"_

Harry was vaguely aware of flying down to the ground to be embraced by a sea of red and green robes.

"We did it! You did it, Harry!"

James finally came forward from the crowd and embraced his son. "Well done, son!"

The league commissioner came forward with the cup. "Well, Mr. Potter, as team captain, I believe you have the honour of being the first to receive this. Congratulations, sir."

"Come on over here, son. I couldn't have done it without you."

Harry came over and joined his father in taking the cup. It felt like Christmas, and his birthday, and graduation day all rolled into one. Harry had never been so happy in all his life. He shared another hug with James.

"Mr. Potter, and Mr. Potter. Over here please."

Harry and James looked over and smiled, holding the cup between them...

_snap_

***

"You look like a wreck, mate."

Harry stopped pacing around the Burrow's living room. "Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence. That's exactly what I need right now."

"Relax, Harry, it's not exactly like she's going to say no."

"Somehow, I don't know if that's making me feel any better right about now."

Ron laughed as he got up from his chair and stood next to Harry, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I reckon it doesn't. Just remember, you want to be here doing this, right?"

Harry's nerves seemed to melt away at the show of affection from his best mate. "Yeah, you're right. So, any sage words of advice from an old veteran before I face the fire?"

"You're kidding, right? You remember me having kittens for a whole week before I proposed to Hermione? You remember your having to brew Calming Draught for me every four hours? It's quite obvious that your own pending proposal has clearly addled your brains mate. And, considering what little you had to begin with, that's not a good sign."

Harry took a swipe at the back of Ron's head, which Ron deftly avoided. Both shared a laugh.

"So, you're really ok with this then?"

"My best mate and my baby sister? ‘Course I am. Naturally, I can't guarantee that Ginny won't come around one day and realize you're a complete git and leave you for someone better looking."

"She's your sister, and you haven't figured it out yet."

"Hmm, you have a point I suppose. Of course, I'm a bit of a git too. And Hermione is the smartest witch we know, and she hasn't figured it out yet either."

At this point, Harry and Ron shared another look and broke out laughing.

"So, you and Ginny?"

"Yeah, me and Ginny."

Ron reached over and pulled Harry into a rough hug.

"Ron, you... you're not crying are you?"

"No... no I'm not. And if you tell anyone, I'll hex you into next week. Better yet, I'll have my fiancée hex you into next week. Besides, I still haven't told anyone about you crying when I proposed, now have I?"

"Point taken."

At that moment, Molly and Arthur came through the Floo.

"Quickly, Harry, Ginny just found the last clue. She and Hermione should be here in just a few minutes. James and Lily are right behind us."

As if on cue, the Potters came spinning into the Burrow living room. They both came over and put reassuring hands on Harry's shoulders. "Are you ready, son?"

"Yeah... I reckon I am."

Molly came over and gave Harry a kiss and a hug. "Oh Harry dear, I'm so happy I can't even tell you."

Arthur joined his wife and gave Harry a hug as well. "We're very proud to finally be able to call you our son. Very proud."

Harry let all the smiling faces around him sink in. He really was ready for this, for the next step. It had been nearly four years since he had lost his memory, but in that time, he had made many new happy memories. His career with the Catapults had taken off quite nicely, much like Ron's career with the Cannons. Hermione and Ginny were both now Junior Healers at St. Mungo's. In two more years, they would become full-fledged Senior Healers, and everyone was extremely proud of both witches. Ron had proposed to Hermione six months earlier, and they were planning a small ceremony for the following summer. And Harry was slowly coming to grips with the fact that he had, in fact, sent Ginny off on an elaborate scavenger hunt all over Wizarding Britain, following many of the holidays they had taken together, and other happy memories they had shared over the years. The last step was for Hermione to bring Ginny back to the Burrow, bringing the trip full circle, so Harry could propose. All he had to do was wait for the front door to open...

... and when it finally did, Ginny came running in. There was a windswept look about her, not surprising since a few of the errands she had to run involved flying a broomstick. Her hair was flowing out behind her, and there was a lovely rosy flush about her cheeks, and written all over her face was a breathless anticipation. But her eyes, her eyes were alive with so many emotions, it seemed as though she could scarcely contain them. She looked at Harry to see the same emotions mirrored in his. With hesitant steps, they approached each other. Finally, within a breath of each other, Harry stopped and knelt before her.

"Ginny... will you -"

Before Harry could even finish, Ginny grabbed him by the collar and lifted him to his feet so he could properly kiss her.

"You reckon that means she says yes?"

"Well, it's not a no."

"Quickly Arthur, the camera."

"Yes, certainly, kids, why don't you look over here. Kids?"

"I'm not so sure they're going to be separating any time soon. I think you'll just have to take it as it is."

_snap_

***

"I now pronounce you Witch and Wizard, Man and Wife. You may kiss your bride."

Harry Potter needed no further encouragement. After all, kissing Ginny Weasley was one of his favourite past-times. But, from now on, he would no longer have that pleasure. From this day forward, he would have to settle for kissing Ginny Potter. However, he was rather unconcerned, since his first experience with kissing Ginny Potter was remarkably like kissing Ginny Weasley, except better.

"All right, newlyweds, have a look over here please."

Ginny and Harry cuddled closer, cheek to cheek, looking out over all the happy faces of everyone they loved and smiled. It was going to be wonderful.

_snap_

***

Harry Potter awoke in a strange bed. Even more shocking was the fact that he was not alone. It seemed a lifetime ago that such an occurrence might have been a shock that would have triggered certain instincts in him, making him reach for his wand and force himself wide awake. But, that was all a bad dream. His waking up to warm sunlight filtering in through large picture windows, illuminating a grand four poster bed with soft heather bedding and pleasant covers was part of a wonderful new life, the centrepiece of which was the beautiful witch next to him. The happy memories of the wedding the day before came back to Harry. The small family ceremony was everything they could have wanted. And they were able to spend their first night together in their house, on the other side of the island from Harry's parents. Rather than jump awake, Harry simply reached out an arm to pull Ginny closer, causing her to stir. Her eyes fluttered open and met his.

"Good morning, Mrs. Potter"

"Good morning yourself," said Ginny sleepily as she ran a hand through Harry's hair.

"How are you feeling?"

"Married..."

"Brilliant..."

The both leaned in for a kiss.

"It's all a dream come true, Harry."

"I know, I don't ever want to wake up."

"So, you'll stay?"

"Always and forever."

Ginny pulled closer to Harry, nuzzling into his neck.

"When we were still at school, and you first came over during the holidays to see Ron, I think that's when it happened, when I first started to like you. And, I was always so afraid that you'd never notice me. You were always so popular at school because your dad was famous, and you were on the House Team from your first year, I just never thought I could measure up."

Harry placed a kiss on Ginny's forehead. "I reckon I was a bit dense. I still can't remember though."

‘What do you remember about me, Harry?"

"I remember the girl with the infectious laugh. The one with the tenacity to hold her own against Fred and George, outdo them even. I remember the girl who always made sure to kick my arse if I got too down on myself or too serious. I remember kisses that make me feel alive." Harry looked back down into Ginny's eyes. "I remember the woman who made me the happiest wizard in the world yesterday."'

And as if to prove the point, Harry leaned in for another kiss.

"Mmm, I don't want this to end."

"It doesn't have to; we still have the honeymoon. Speaking of which, we should get ready."

In spite of the implication that they might be late, Harry and Ginny took their time getting ready, choosing to enjoy their first day together. Several hours later, they met Ron, Hermione and their parents back at the Burrow.

"I'm impressed. I wasn't expecting you two for another few hours," said James with a wink to his son.

"So, how does it feel, son?" asked Lily.

"Well... I don't think I'll notice if Christmas gets cancelled this year," said Harry.

Everyone shared a laugh.

"I suspect you both will want to be off soon. Why don't you follow me out to the shed, I've got something for you," said Arthur.

Harry and Ginny followed Mr. Weasley out to the shed. After a few minutes of digging through old boxes, he finally found what he was looking for. "Ah, here we go."

Harry and Ginny gasped as Mr. Weasley unrolled a rather expensive looking carpet, which promptly rose into the air.

"Dad, aren't these illegal?" asked Ginny, although she had a bit of a mischievous glint in her eyes.

"Well, just try not to tell anyone. Besides, everyone agrees that you two will appreciate this. It sure beats a tandem broom. Why don't you bring it up to the front so we can all see you off?"

They made their way to the front of the house, where everyone was already waiting for them.

"Spain is supposed to be beautiful this time of year," said Hermione. "Do try and send us some postcards and pictures with Hedwig, Harry."

"Yeah, because I'm sure you'll have loads of time for that mate," said Ron.

"All right kids, one last shot before you go. Why not have a seat on the carpet? That's perfect. Smile, pretend like you like each other..."

_snap_


	9. Waking Up, Again

Harry paced across his living room. He had never been so nervous in his life. Not during O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s, not during his first game for Caerphilly. Maybe just before he proposed....

No, that was easy compared with the prospect of becoming a father. The wait was driving him crazy. He had been at Ginny's side, but the delivery was somewhat difficult, and Ginny had ended up throwing him out. He supposed sweating like a pig and nervously stuttering "you're doing fine," probably wasn't helping, so she was somewhat justified. Still, it meant Harry had to wait while his life was changing in the bedroom upstairs.

He paused for a moment to look at some of the pictures on the mantle. He was able to draw some strength, looking back at some of the happy memories he had made in the ten years since loosing his memory. He could see pictures from the Leaving Feast, games with Caerphilly, Ginny and Hermione being made a Senior Healer, pictures from weddings, his own, Ron and Hermiones', and many others, pictures in the new house, all the signs of a happy life well lived.

He picked up a picture from his seventeenth birthday. As he sat down, he considered the people in the picture. He could see his parents, Ron, Hermione and Ginny all crowded around him as he blew out the candles and made his wish. That summer had been incredible, like waking up from a bad dream. Almost everything Harry could have ever wanted, he had found since then. Only one last thing was missing, and at any moment, he'd have that too.

At last, he looked over to the staircase to see a familiar face coming down.

"Hello, Mr. Potter," said Healer Spinnet.

Harry jumped out of his seat. "How is she?"

"She and your son are resting comfortably. I dare say they'd both like to see you now."

"Oh... yes, I think I'd like to see them too." Harry made a move to dash up the stairs, but Healer Spinnet stopped him.

"Mr. Potter, I don't think you're quite ready for that. You realise that everything changes the moment you walk through that door?"

Harry stopped to consider that prospect. The full scale of having all his dreams come true suddenly became very real to him. Healer Spinnet watched him ponder over the information.

"Do you remember what I told you the last time you came to see me as a patient?"

Harry looked back up. "You... you told me I had to choose to believe."

"That's right," she said as she put a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder. "I told you at the time that you probably wouldn't understand. I think today, when you walk through that door, you might begin to understand."

Harry was suddenly very overcome with doubt. "I don't know if I'm ready, or if I will understand."

"Why should you doubt yourself?"

"I... I just don't know how I'm supposed to be a father to anyone. I mean, I still don't know everything about my own life. There are 17 missing years, and now I'm responsible for a baby... how am I ever going to do it?"

Mary smiled. "You know, Mr. Potter, as a Healer, I have delivered literally hundreds of babies in my time. And in every case, the parents are always worried about how they will cope. Many of those parents had far greater problems than a mere case of amnesia. And yet, somehow, they always managed to pull through. Do you know what pulled them through?"

Harry shook his head.

"Love. Love always finds a way. Give love a chance, Harry, let it heal, and let it overcome, and it will do remarkable things."

Harry looked down for a moment, considering the possibilities of what happened when he went up the stairs.

"Well, I should be off."

"Wait, Healer... I may not have said this often enough, but... thank you... for everything."

Mary Spinnet turned back to Harry and pulled him into a hug. "Healers never forget their patients, Harry. No one ever forgets the people they care about. Ever."

And with that, Healer Spinnet left the room, leaving Harry deep in thought at the bottom of the stairs. He knew his future was just at the top. All he had to do was take the steps...

...and as he walked into the room, a beautiful sight met his eyes. Ginny was sitting on the bed, her head propped up by pillows, holding a little boy whose head was already sporting a mop of messy black hair, and was sleeping peacefully cradled in his mother's arms. Ginny's face showed exhaustion and exhilaration all at once. When her eyes met Harry's, it seemed that everyone else in the room faded away. It was with considerably more certain steps that Harry closed the gap.

"Isn't he perfect?"

Harry didn't have words, all he could do was stare into the face of his son. Lily broke him out of his reverie.

"Why don't you hold him, dear?"

Harry took the sleeping baby into his arms. It was like nothing he'd ever felt before. The little bundle was warm, and it felt like the warmth penetrated into his very soul. In that moment, Harry felt he finally knew what love was. The sensation was overwhelming. This is what life was supposed to be.

But just as quickly as that thought entered his mind, another rose in response.

"This isn't real, is it?"

"No, Harry, it is not," answered a voice behind him.

Harry looked up. Suddenly, the room was empty. Gone was the bed with Ginny, and the chairs in which the Weasleys and the Potters were sitting. He looked down and found his own arms to be empty. He felt as though each of them had taken a piece of his heart with them.

"Hello, Harry," said the voice again.

Harry turned to face it. A cold shock came over him as he stood face to face with the last person he expected to see. "How... how can you be here?"

"A better question, Harry," interrupted Professor Dumbledore, "is how _you_ came to be here. It is a most interesting story, and it is time you learned the truth."


	10. The Visitor

"Am I dead?" asked Harry.

"Not quite, Harry, but you are very close," said Dumbledore. His voice was calm, yet firm, making Harry focus completely on him. "What happens next is very important."

"I... what's going on, sir?"

"I'm afraid it's rather complicated, Harry, and I need to be sure you are prepared to hear it."

Harry felt as though everything else was fading away, and the only thing left in the universe was himself and the man in front of him, who, by all rights, should not be there.

"What do you mean, sir?"

"I am talking about the truth, Harry. I need to know that you are prepared for the truth."

Harry stopped and reflected on the events of the past hour... the past year... the past ten years... his whole life. What did he know about his life? He had seventeen years' worth of memories about a terrible life in which he was an orphan and there was a war, followed by ten years of bliss, family, friends and joy.

"It wasn't real, was it?" he whispered.

Dumbledore took a long, hard look at Harry. The elder wizard's face betrayed no emotion, but his eyes showed sorrow, as though the next thing he was going to say was the gravest pronouncement he could make.

"No, Harry, I am afraid not. But it is good that you were able to realise that on your own."

Harry stopped for a moment. He could feel the tears coming down his cheeks as he thought back on the happy memories. Leaving school, games with Caerphilly, being married to Ginny.

"I remember everything, just like it was yesterday... and none of it happened..."

"I did not say it did not happen, Harry, just that it was not real."

"What?" Harry's head snapped up as he looked Dumbledore in the eyes.

"Quite the contrary, Harry, it all DID happen, it just wasn't real."

"What do you mean, sir?"

"Harry, what is the last thing you remember from your ‘real' life?"

Harry thought back, trying to make sense of everything. "I... it was... I was at the wedding."

"Yes, Harry, very good. What do you remember about that night?"

It could have been 10 minutes ago, or 10 years ago, Harry wasn't certain. But as he stopped to consider it, the memories suddenly came back clearly. "I was avoiding everyone, up in the tree."

"Yes, you were. I always did have a preference for trees, they made excellent hiding spots. But where you were hiding is not in question Harry. What were you feeling?"

Everything came flooding back to Harry. The murder, the war, the quest. "I felt like I couldn't do it."

"You were feeling despair, Harry," said Dumbledore gently. "You were feeling hopeless and overwhelmed. And your mind was at its weakest. And, you were never a very good Occlumens. All of which made that night the perfect night for Lord Voldemort to attack you."

Harry panicked. "Voldemort attacked the Burrow? Is everyone all right? What happened?"

Dumbledore raised a hand to stop Harry. "Your friends are fine, Harry. Lord Voldemort and his Death Eaters did not come within a hundred leagues of the Burrow. They did not have to." He stepped forward. "You forget, Lord Voldemort has a much more intimate connection to you."

Harry's hand reflexively went to his forehead. His stomach dropped as his hand went over the familiar patch of skin that had defined him all his life. He had nearly forgotten, but his scar was unmistakably back.

"Voldemort attacked my mind?"

Dumbledore looked down sadly at Harry. "Yes, I am afraid he did."

"How did he do it?"

"To be perfectly honest, Harry, I am not certain. He is a very powerful wizard. Do you remember watching his visit to my office to seek a teaching position at Hogwarts? He claimed that he had pushed the barriers of magic further than any other wizard. I believe he made a similar claim the night he regained his body from what you told us. I am afraid it was not idle boasting. Voldemort truly is a powerful wizard. He has been able to unravel the secrets of some of the darkest magic known to wizarding kind. And, using that knowledge, he launched his attack on you that night."

Harry began to absorb some of what Dumbledore was explaining to him. "That night... Professor, how long ago was that?"

"That is another interesting question Harry. One without a straight answer. You have experienced 10 full years since that night in your own mind. In truth, scarcely more than ten minutes have passed. If you were to wake up right now, everything would be the way it was before you fell asleep."

"And, if I didn't?"

"If you chose not to wake up, Harry, you would go on living this life here in your own mind. You would go on, watching your newborn son grow up, perhaps having more children. Carrying on with your career, growing old with Ginny. All the things that you would expect from a normal life. You would live a full sixty to seventy years. Perhaps eighty to ninety if you cut back on the treacle tart and chocolate frogs. And then, you would die."

"And then I'd wake up."

"Harry, what happens in your mind is real to you," said Dumbledore gravely. "There is no difference."

Harry felt as if reality was crashing down around him. "So, that was his plan?" Images of his happy life flashed before him. It was all a deception. "He wanted me to fall asleep and die?"

"Yes, Harry. Voldemort used Legilimency to restore the connection. And he used that connection to cast his spell."

"What spell did he use, sir?"

"This is merely conjecture, Harry, but I believe he used the Imperius curse."

"He... he could do that while he was inside my mind?" The thought gave Harry pause.

"Voldemort is very powerful, Harry, especially when it comes to the Dark Arts. Your connection is most unique. It makes many things possible. It also made it possible for you to fight him."

"I fought him? How?"

"By using the power you have that he knows not, Harry. Voldemort may have pushed the boundaries of Dark Magic further than any wizard in history, but he is still woefully ignorant of the power of love. A power you have in greater quantities than I have seen in my many years."

Harry had never been quite comfortable with Dumbledore's opinion of his capacity to love. Nor did he fully understand what that power was. As if he could sense Harry's confusion, Dumbledore spoke again.

"You may not appreciate this power, Harry, but rest assured, it is your surest defence against Voldemort. This is the second time that Voldemort has attempted to possess you. The first was at the Ministry. It pains me to admit that I was bested in my duel that night. I was not able to stop him from possessing you. And yet you were able to force him to leave. Do you realise that no one has seen Voldemort since that night, Harry?"

This came as a shock. "He's not -"

"No, he is still very much alive. But he was greatly weakened. In spite of the fact that The Greatest Dark Wizard in nearly half a century possessed your mind, you were still able to feel love, Harry. You must understand how truly remarkable that is."

The Greatest Dark Wizard in half a century had occupied his body, and he was forced out... by love. Harry began to slowly understand what Dumbledore was telling him, what he had been telling him since his first year at Hogwarts. Suddenly, Harry felt as though he understood what his life meant.

"I'm sorry, sir. This is... I still don't understand everything that has been happening. And how exactly are you here, sir? I... I saw you..."

Dumbledore looked kindly upon Harry. "You are in good company then, Harry. As I said, I do not fully understand everything that is happening either. But what I have been telling you is a good deal more complicated than O.W.L. level transfiguration theory. Perhaps we should start from the beginning. This may take some time, so perhaps we should make ourselves more comfortable. Please sit, Harry."

Harry looked down to see a pair of very comfortable chairs set on either side of a table. On the table was a pair of mugs and a steaming kettle. There was also a plate with some very fresh looking biscuits.

"Sir... you don't have a wand. How... where -"

"It would be best to take a seat, Harry," interrupted Dumbledore again as he took a seat. "There are many questions I am sure you wish to ask, and I assure you that there are many more you do not know to ask, and you would still not know everything there is to know. I will do what I can to answer those questions you do have. Please, sit. Eat and drink. It has been too long since we have been able to sit and share together. Let us relish this opportunity. We may not have another for some time."

Harry's mind was still reeling, but he did take a seat. As soon as he did, he felt as though the chair had wrapped him in a warm hug. It was quite comfortable. He reached for the kettle to pour himself a drink of what turned out to be some splendid hot chocolate, which perfectly complimented the fresh biscuits. The warmth penetrated his whole body, and despite the many questions in his head, he was much more at ease. Sensing his relaxation, Dumbledore began his story.

"I needed no wand to conjure our current comforts, Harry because there is no need for wands in this place. We are not in, what you would call, the real world. This is a sort of in between place. A crossroads of sorts."

"Crossroads between what, sir?"

"Between the world of the living, and what lies beyond."

"What lies beyond? I... am I dying, sir?"

Dumbledore took a sip from his own mug before giving Harry one of his familiar piercing looks from over the rims of his spectacles. "I will not say dying, Harry. But your life does indeed hang in the balance. What you decide next may well determine whether you survive or not."

For the first time, Harry truly began to feel fear. He had grown so accustomed to his happy life that he had almost forgotten what it meant to fear. He decided to push on with his questions to ignore some of the fear.

"Sir, if this place is... in between... how did you get here?"

Dumbledore smiled. "I had some help, Harry, from a rather unexpected source. Why don't you come on out, Dobby?"

Harry heard a crack behind him and saw the familiar form of Dobby appear.

"I'm sure when Dobby first appeared to you, you were quite surprised, Harry. I felt rather the same way when he appeared to me the night Voldemort attacked you at the Burrow.

"What? Dobby found you the night... but that would be after..." Harry rounded on Dobby. "How did you do that?"

"Dobby is feeling that something is terribly wrong with Mr. Harry Potter, so Dobby goes to try and find help, sir. Dobby can feel that He Who Must Not Be Named is performing very Dark Magic, so Dobby must find someone who can help. Dobby doesn't know who can help except for Professor Dumbledore, so Dobby must find Professor Dumbledore. And Dobby finds him, sir! Dobby finds him and brings him!"

The elf's story didn't do much to help Harry's understanding, so he turned to Dumbledore. "What does he mean, sir? How did he find you? How could he find you.... on the other side?"

"You forget, Harry, Dobby is a Free House Elf. That is another remarkable thing. There has not been a Free Elf since before Hogwarts was founded. The reason elves were enslaved to begin with was because wizards feared their power. And the first enslavement was easy because elves loved so freely that Wizards were able to exploit and trap them. It has been so long that no one even remembers how powerful Free Elves might be. Dobby, too, has the power to love and he loves you, Harry. He loves you in the pure way that only an elf can. That is very powerful magic."

Dobby looked down, feeling rather modest. "'Tis true, sir. Dobby cares very much for Mr. Harry Potter. Dobby does everything he can to help him, he does!"

Harry felt a little guilty. He had always taken Dobby for granted, and even been cross with him for being too earnest. "Thanks, Dobby." Dobby beamed back at him.

"To answer your question, Harry," continued Dumbledore, "Dobby is the reason I am here. He formed a kind of bridge for me to be able to reach out and touch your mind. I have been able to study what is happening to you, and what exactly Voldemort is doing to you. From what I have been able to piece together, Voldemort realised how dangerous you were after his failed attempt to control you at the Ministry. He gave the Death Eaters free reign to terrorise the Wizarding World while he himself went into hiding, issuing orders remotely. I don't believe any of the Death Eaters even knew how weak he had become. It seems they are used to receiving secret orders without ever seeing their master. In the meantime, Voldemort has been recovering and planning his next attack on you. As far as I can understand, Voldemort used Legilimency to reforge the connection. And, as I said before, I believe he used the Imperius curse to try and lull your mind into permanent sleep. You may remember, from having the curse placed on you previously, that Imperius blanks the mind of the victim, placing them in a tranquil state, and making them susceptible to suggestion. Something similar happened when Voldemort cast his spell while inside your mind. I believe that was his purpose. To relax you, and lull you into permanent sleep."

"But I fought him."

Dumbledore smiled and sat up straighter. "Indeed you did, Harry. If memory serves, you have always had the capacity to fight the Imperius curse. Something to do with a rather stubborn, independent streak you have," he said with a wink. "You did keep fighting him, which gave Dobby a chance to reach you. Your temptation was rather severe, and the spell that Voldemort used was quite powerful. It seemed as though it might work, that Voldemort would be able to seduce your mind into permanent sleep. But once again, he underestimated the power within you."

"Love?"

"Yes, Harry, love. Just love. You see, to keep you asleep, Voldemort decided to tempt you with visions of your heart's deepest desire. He assumed that your desires would be the same as his, power, and that you would be motivated by greed. He cannot, and will not see that not everyone is like him. He was unprepared when your heart's deepest desire was to be happy and loved. As your mind created visions of happiness, you were once again able to force him from your mind."

"That's how you were able to get to me?"

Dumbledore regarded Harry for a moment before continuing. "Actually, Harry, the story becomes a good deal more complicated here. You see, you were able to force Voldemort from your mind. But that is not what brought you here. You were actually able to force Voldemort out very quickly. But still, you did not wake up. Your own mind preferred to stay asleep and enjoy the world you had created. You forgot all about the war, and you even forgot me. It seemed your mind was best able to cope by blocking everything else out. Voldemort's spell almost worked, but not by his doing."

Harry felt the familiar feelings of despair return to him. Just ten minutes ago, he had been holding his newborn son; or had he been crying himself to sleep in The Burrow? He buried his face in his hands, trying to make sense of everything.

"Harry, I realise that this is difficult. I will not pretend that I understand what you are going through. But you must understand what comes next. You must make a choice."

This time, Harry felt hot anger bubble up inside him. He rose out of his chair and started screaming, "What choice is there? I have to fight him, don't I? I'm the only one who can!"

Dumbledore remained seated, calmly regarding Harry. "That is not true, Harry."

"What?"

"I don't blame you for being angry with me, Harry. Your whole life I have been meddling in your affairs, seemingly grooming you for a mantle you never chose. In some ways, even before you were born, I have been interfering with your life." Dumbledore's head dropped, and some sadness entered his voice. "Your parents were very much in love, and wanted nothing more than to raise a family in peace. But their loyalty to me made that nearly impossible."

In spite of Dumbledore's apology, Harry remained very upset. "You said I have a choice, sir."

Dumbledore looked back up at Harry. "Yes, you do. You can wake up and go back to your old life, or you can stay asleep and continue living this life."

"That doesn't sound like much of a choice. Who's going to stop Voldemort if I stay asleep?"

"Anyone, it does not matter. There is no reason that you must be the one to stop him, Harry."

"What about the Prophecy?"

"Indeed, what about the Prophecy, Harry? As I said, Voldemort chose to take stock in it, and as such, made himself a very powerful enemy. But he is not so powerful that he can only be defeated by you. The only true barrier to stopping Voldemort is eliminating his Horcruxes. And you are not the only one who knows about them, nor are you the only one who has ever destroyed one."

This did nothing to ease Harry's anger. "Then why all the secrecy? Why did I have to keep this from everyone?"

Dumbledore looked sadly upon Harry. "Because I meddled in your life, Harry, as I have been since before you were born. Betrayal is an awful thing Harry. Look at what it did to your parents."

An image came to Harry's mind, the photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix, with Wormtail sitting between his parents.

"You see, Harry, I hoped to avoid betrayal. The Order is full of powerful witches and wizards who would prove useful in locating and destroying the Horcruxes. But the more people know, the greater the chance of Voldemort discovering our plans. This is our only chance of winning this war, Harry. Therefore, while I was alive, I chose to keep the circle small. If you and I can no longer continue the fight, then the circle must be widened. The risk is greater, but so too are the tools and resources. The war is far from over. And it does not need you specifically, just as it does not need me. I am sorry if you have been burdened with questions of destiny and fate, Harry, but you must understand, you do have a choice and that choice makes all the difference."

Just as quickly as Dumbledore made his pronouncement, the bedroom reappeared around him. Harry once again saw Ginny on the bed holding his son, with his parents sitting on one side, the Weasleys and Ron and Hermione on the other. Dumbledore stepped between Harry and the others.

"You must decide."


	11. The Choice

Seeing visions of happiness standing before him when he had to choose to walk away felt like twisting the knife in the wound. Harry couldn't help the tears that fell down his cheeks as he tried to gather the courage to wake up.

"I know this is hard, Harry," said Dumbledore sadly. "I am torn about whether I want you to wake up as well. I have never seen you so happy, and I have wished you nothing but happiness since I first met you. I wished the same for your parents, Sirius, Cedric, and so many others I had to watch go before me. I have hoped that their sacrifices were not in vain. I have nothing left to offer you but this choice."

Harry wiped a tear away. "If I wake up, will I remember any of this?"

"Yes Harry, every detail as though it were yesterday."

"That's not fair."

"No, Harry, it is not. But it may prove useful. Everyone needs a reason to fight, a reason to choose. I fear that you have not had a choice your whole life. You have been playing the part everyone always expected you to play, bringing you only despair on the eve of your destiny. I told you once that choice is what separates you from Lord Voldemort, Harry, and that has not changed."

"Sir?"

"It's ironic, isn't it? A wizard determined to be dependent upon nothing has made himself a slave to his own destiny. And he will be bound to it to the bitter end."

"He'll destroy himself then?"

"No, Harry, he will destroy everything else. Voldemort will not stand for anything he can not control. He will suffer no allegiance to anything but him. He will stop people from talking, thinking, feeling anything. He will destroy everything and everyone until he is alone. Then he will find that perhaps being alone is not what he had hoped. Afterward, he will destroy himself. So you see, Harry, he must be stopped or he will be the end of everything."

"So I have to do it."

"No, Harry," said Dumbledore forcefully. "You must understand, you must CHOOSE! You have come this far on fate alone. But if you are to go forward, you must decide to fight. If you will not, someone else will. Someone who chooses. Evil is not defeated because fate deems it so, evil is defeated because good people choose to make their stand. If you choose not to stand, Harry, fear not, the world is not so far gone that no one else will choose to take your place. You are not the only one whose life has been touched by Voldemort."

The photograph of the original Order of the Phoenix came to Harry, as did images in a Pensieve of a straw haired boy being dragged away by Dementors, begging his father to save him; of Ginny Weasley's cold body lying on the floor of the Chamber of Secrets; of Susan Bones quietly weeping behind a tree, where she thought no one could see her; of Hagrid being taken to Azkaban, suspected of letting Slytherin's monster loose in the castle; of Remus Lupin forced to shelter in the Shrieking Shack once a month as a school boy; of Luna, Neville, Hermione, Ron and Ginny, all wounded at the Department of Mysteries; ending with a single photo of a redheaded beauty and a man with messy black hair and glasses clutching an infant between them, a look of pure delight on all three faces. Whether that image came from the past, or the future, Harry didn't know. But it seemed to make his decision for him all the same.

"I want to go back..."

"Then it is time, Harry. I fear that you and I must part ways again." Dumbledore stepped towards Harry and placed his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Although it breaks my heart, I hope it is many years before I see you again. I hope you will be patient with your old professor, but I would like to leave you with a few final lessons."

Harry grinned in spite of himself. "I'd like that sir."

Dumbledore gave Harry a sad smile. "First and foremost, Harry, I have been able to gather that you intended to set out after the Horcruxes and not return to Hogwarts for your final year."

"Yes, sir."

"I would like you to reconsider."

"Sir?"

"I have been a teacher for most of my long years, Harry. My students and my colleagues are my family, and I love each of them dearly, but when I see my students turn down opportunities, my heart breaks." Dumbledore let out a sigh before continuing. "I have already told you that I have wanted nothing but peace and happiness for you since before you were born, much as I wanted for your parents. I want you to have a full and happy life, a normal life without the burdens of war and destiny. The greatest tool you can have in the world is an education. I hope you will not forsake yours. Believe me, Harry, having the tools to win a war will seem trivial without tools to enjoy the peace."

"But sir, how can I even think about school without y... without... with all the distractions?"

The sad smile returned to Dumbledore's face. "The next lesson, Harry, is dealing with adversity. You have already mastered many of these lessons by growing up an orphan raised by people who resented your very existence. But I'm afraid that completing a difficult task is frequently rewarded by being set an even more difficult one. It may seem silly to concern yourself with N.E.W.T.s when you may not live to see the next day, but you can not lose hope for the future. This is why love is such powerful magic, Harry; it always looks forward, and it accepts nothing as impossible. Love holds many secrets for those who would learn of it, and I fear you will learn nothing if you do not return to school in some capacity."

Harry suddenly felt very foolish as he considered the prospect of setting out to defeat Voldemort and destroy his Horcruxes without having thought of returning to Hogwarts. The library, the professors, the protective wards, everything that they would need in terms of having a base of operations would be satisfied at Hogwarts. Harry seemed to feel lighter just thinking about it. After all, Hogwarts was the closest thing he had to a home next to the Burrow.

Dumbledore studied Harry's face and saw the gradual acceptance. "There is one more thing I must ask of you Harry, and I fear this may be the most difficult."

"What's that, sir?"

"I need you to look after my students, Harry."

"I'll protect the school, I promise."

"I am not certain you understand, Harry. Just because they leave the school does not mean my students stop being my students. In fact, it is the ones who have left who concern me most." Dumbledore observed the confusion on Harry's face before continuing. "I am referring to Professor Snape and Mr. Malfoy."

"WHAT?"

"I realize this may seem unusual in light of the events of last term -"

"Unusual! The events of last term! Sir, he -"

Dumbledore stopped Harry's rant by raising his hand. "Professor Snape likely saved Mr. Malfoy's life, which is exactly what I asked him to do."

_"It is my mercy, and not yours, that matters now."_

"But..."

"I told you once Harry that the consequences of my mistakes were far greater than those of others. I did not believe that Draco would be able to accomplish his task. Professor Snape and I both underestimated him, and, as such, were cornered on top of the tower. I do wish the situation had turned out better, but I am far more expendable than you or Draco."

"How can you say that?"

"I can say that, Harry, because I have had the chance to watch you and your classmates grow up. I am certain that the future rests in your hands as surely as the sun will rise tomorrow. If I have had a part to play in all this, then it has been to guide you along your path, to make you understand what a powerful tool love is. I hope you understand the great secret, Harry."

"What's that, sir?"

"That love _is_ the source of magic. Voldemort and his followers believe in bloodlines, that magic can only be bred. They have learned nothing from the fate of the House of Gaunt. Nor do they understand the importance of Muggle-born witches and wizards. They have forgotten that magic itself is alive and is sustained by the connection between all of us, Harry, Wizard and Muggle alike. We need Muggles to sustain our magic. Their collective doubt keeps our world hidden. And yet, on occasion, through the magic of love, a wizard is born into the Muggle world, then comes to ours to sustain magic. Voldemort and his followers do not see it, but the more they try to keep the bloodlines "pure," the more magic fights to introduce new Muggle-borns to keep itself alive. Do you begin to see how important this fight is, Harry?"

Harry's mind was reeling, trying to keep up with Dumbledore's lessons. He had to look at his whole life, and the lives of his friends, in a whole new light.

"This fight is too important to have fate decide it, Harry. You must choose your destiny. It is vital that you see how indispensable you and your friends are. I am expendable, I have lived my life. But your life, and the lives of Mr. Malfoy, Ms. Granger, Mr. and Ms. Weasley, Mr. Longbottom, Ms. Lovegood, and everyone else you can think of is of the utmost importance for the survival of the world."

Harry took in a deep breath. "Then I'm ready to go back."

Dumbledore smiled sadly. "I do believe you are, Harry. This is where we must part ways. I have enjoyed our time together. Seeing old friends is always a blessing, wouldn't you agree?"

Harry tried to answer but his tears had returned and he couldn't find his voice. He merely nodded.

"Very well, Harry, it is time to take the next step. Are you ready?"

"Yes." And he meant it.

"Then wake up, Harry."


	12. Living

  
Author's notes: Many thanks to all who have read and reviewed. Positive feedback is always a great encouragement. Very special thanks to my wonderful beta, Simon's Flower, who did great work the whole way through. Credit for inspiration of the plot of this fic goes to TV shows like The 4400, Life on Mars and Lost. Credit for Lily's lullaby goes to The Village, and credit for Harry Potter goes to JK Rowling.   


* * *

"Wake up, Harry."

Harry's eyes snapped open. He sat bolt upright and fumbled on the nightstand for his glasses. When he had them on, he saw Ron and Hermione sitting at the foot of his bed. He reached for his forehead, feeling for the familiar patch of skin.

"You all right there, mate?" asked Ron.

Harry let out a sigh as his hand found his scar. He didn't know if he should feel relieved or disappointed, but he was back.

"Harry, are you sure you're ready?" asked Hermione.

Harry looked up again. Ron and Hermione were clearly concerned for him. But, as he read deeper into their faces, he could see some of the same anxiety he had been feeling before his meeting with Dumbledore. A surge of love went through his heart. Ron and Hermione HAD made a choice. They were bound by no prophecy, no burden of fate. They were coming with him of their own accord. He wished there was some way he could make them understand how important that was. On impulse, he did the only thing he could think of: he reached across the bed, grabbing each of them with one arm, and engulfed them in a rough, impulsive hug.

"Thank you," he whispered, tears leaking from his eyes.

Although clearly startled, Ron and Hermione quickly responded, drawing Harry closer.

"We're with you, Harry," said Hermione.

"Thick and thin, mate, yeah?" said Ron.

Harry wiped his eyes and let go. "I've had some interesting dreams that you guys should know about."

***

Ginny Weasley had slept very badly. The imminent departure of the Trio had been weighing heavily on her mind. Her brother, one of her best friends and The Boy Who Broke Her Heart. He didn't mean to, but he did. She tried her best to keep it from him, but a Weasley heart could only be kept hidden for so long. As much as she might try, it was not in Ginny to simply bear things with a calm exterior. When Ginny was upset, she needed to act, to fight, to resist.

During the time they were together, Ginny had very rarely held back from giving Harry a piece of her mind when she was upset. The threat of one of her hexes usually put most people in line, but this was different. She knew that Harry was only doing what he thought best, and maybe he was right. The news from the outside world was not good. She realized that if the Death Eaters wanted her dead there would be very little she would be able to do about it. Harry just wanted to make sure that didn't happen. He cared so much about everyone that he couldn't stand to let anything happen to those he loved.

Stupid prat.

At last, she gave up on getting back to sleep. She walked over to the window to look down on the garden. It was still dark out; the sun wouldn't rise for another half hour or so. She could still see a few fairies dancing along the rose bushes. It seemed a fitting image. There were small points of light here and there, but all she could really see was darkness. It felt like she was waiting for a sunrise that would never come.

Dumbledore was dead. Bill had been married, but the next full moon was approaching and no one knew what would happen to him then. Percy hadn't made it to the wedding. The family hadn't heard from him in many months. The papers were full of dire stories. And Harry Potter was leaving because he was the only one who could bring the sunlight back. The same boy who looked like he was falling apart into a million pieces when they had shared what might be their last dance the night before.

Ginny could feel the tears coming, so she decided to head downstairs for some juice. She stopped short at the bottom of the stairs as she saw Ron, Hermione and Harry all already seated, each with a mug in front of them, deep in conversation. Harry was the first to notice her. Ron and Hermione each turned to look at her, before turning back to Harry. Hermione reached for Harry's hand.

"Why don't we give the two of you a minute?"

Hermione stood, and Ron took her hand as the two of them headed for the living room. Ginny remained rooted to her spot, and Harry's eyes remained downcast, as if looking for answers at the bottom of his mug. Finally, Harry found his voice.

"Ginny, you should come sit. We have a lot to talk about," he said quietly.

Ginny crossed her arms in front of her, taking on a defensive posture. "So you're finally talking to me?"

Harry's head stayed bowed, as he let out a sigh. "I'm sorry, Ginny. Please, we need to talk."

"What's there to talk about?"

Harry let out a chuckle, "Quite a lot actually."

"Because there wasn't anything to talk about at all yesterday, or the week before that, or the week before that now, was there?"

Harry let out another sigh. "Well, I suppose things build up if you put them off." He finally raised his head to meet her eyes.

Ginny could see the unshed tears in his eyes. She didn't know whether to feel justified or compassionate. Truth be told, she was feeling both.

"Ginny, please, sit down. We really do need to talk." Harry's voice was still quiet, but there was a hint of urgency that tugged at Ginny's heartstrings, the way only Harry could. She went into the kitchen to fetch a mug of pumpkin juice before sitting across from Harry.

"What's on your mind, Potter?"

Harry frowned at her distant attitude, but he couldn't blame her. It was time to fix his mistakes. "I owe you an apology."

Ginny raised an eyebrow, opting to match his understatement. "Yes, you do."

"You have to understand -"

"Don't worry, Harry, I do. It doesn't mean I have to like it."

Harry ran a hand through his hair. "I don't want it to be like this."

"Can you think of another way?"

In response, Harry rose from his chair and pulled up one next to Ginny. He took her hands in his, and held her gaze. "It's time you knew the truth."

Ginny could feel her heart beating faster. Harry always had this effect on her, and the determined look in his eyes took her breath away. "What are you saying?"

"I need you, Ginny, and I need to tell you why."

***

"Harry, darling, wake up."

"Hmmm..."

"Come on, son, rise and shine."

"What... what's going on?"

"We need to talk, dear, please wake up."

Harry reached for his glasses and the scene came into focus. His mum and dad were seated on either side of his bed. Panic began to rise in his chest.

As if sensing his unease, Lily put a reassuring hand in his. "Don't worry, dear, this is a dream."

James came over and joined his hand with Lily and Harry's. "The bridge your elf friend created hasn't quite faded yet. So we have an opportunity, one we never thought we'd have."

"Harry, we just wanted you to know, we're so proud of you. We love you, son, never doubt that," said Lily.

"We've been watching you. You've never failed to do us proud. It's not fair that we never got to share our lives together, but always know that our love goes with you. Do you understand, son?"

Harry felt like he could scarcely breathe, that the weight of what he was feeling was pushing on his chest.

"I'm sorry, I don't remember anything about you."

James smiled. "That's not true, son. You do remember. You may have only been a baby, but you were happy, and you were loved. That left a mark on you. Dumbledore tried to explain it to you once. Sometimes your heart remembers what your mind can't."

"How long do we have?"

"Not very long, son, you'll probably wake as the sun rises in a quarter of an hour."

"That's not fair."

Lily smiled sadly. "No, it's not, dear. But life's not always fair. You've done so well even though life has been unkind to you. We're so proud of you, we love you, and we have to keep telling you that because we don't have a chance to do it in person."

"I'll remember this when I wake up, won't I?"

"Yes."

"Then can I ask a favour?"

"Anything."

"Will you hold me, and sing me to sleep, like when I was a baby?"

Lily and James both had tears in their eyes, the same tears that were in Harry's eyes. Lily took Harry's head in her lap, and James put his arm around Lily. Harry felt as though he were literally wrapped in love like it was a blanket. And perhaps, that was exactly true.

_Baby sleep, gently sleep_

 

_Life is long and love is deep_

_Time will be, sweet for thee_

_All the world to see_

_Time to look about and know_

_Though the shadows come and go_

_How the breeze, stirs the trees_

_How the blossoms grow..._  
  
***  
  
"Harry, wake up."  
  
"Hmmm?"  
  
"Unless you'd rather that mum and dad found us sharing a blanket on the couch. Because I'm sure that'd go over real well."  
  
Harry reached for his glasses, and when his vision came into focus, he found Ginny hovering over him.  
  
"I could get used to waking up this way," he said in a far off voice.  
  
"Oh, so you think it's that easy? Tell a girl all about how a madman is trying to kill you and how he plans to make himself immortal and she'll fall all over you?"  
  
"Did it work?"  
  
"Maybe," said Ginny as she leaned in for a kiss.  
  
"We really should get up, Harry."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Well, if mum and dad find us-"  
  
"Let them."  
  
"Harry?"  
  
"I want to be free, Ginny. I want us to be free. Besides, there's no danger."  
  
"I thought you were breaking up with me before because there was danger."  
  
"Well, yes, we both might be killed and all, but your mum and dad should know that there's no danger. I love you, you see."  
  
"Oh," said Ginny with a blush.  
  
"And some very wise people have told me that love is magic."  
  
"Is that so?"  
  
"I'll show you," said Harry as he planted a kiss on Ginny's lips. "Did you feel it?"  
  
"I reckon I did."  
  
"So you see, there's nothing to fear. I love you."  
  
Harry and Ginny drew closer together and drew the blanket tighter. Harry's heart felt lighter than it had in months. Dumbledore was right. Love was the strongest magic. And more love was not a bad thing.  
  
He was finally ready to go out and complete the quest. He was ready to win, and to celebrate his win. He was ready to live.  
  
THE END


End file.
